Intelligent, Brave, and Kind
by VolturiQueen1993
Summary: Margaret "Meg" Matheson is the only other person with aptitude for three factions. She disregards the advice of her aptitude test administrator and joins Dauntless, believing that she'll be protected since her older brother is a faction leader there. She encounters a vaguely family face and becomes acquainted with a Dauntless born named Aiden. Set during the trilogy. Canon/AU
1. Prologue

**This is OC/OC, and another idea that will become cliché.**

**I own nothing with the exception of Margaret "Meg" Matheson.**

* * *

Rain falls from the sky as the bus stops in front of Erudite headquarters. When I step outside, I open up my blue umbrella. If I come home wet, mother will be furious. Most likely because that means cleaning up the water spots.

"I wonder if the day of our aptitude test is going to be this rainy," says Edward, as he stands beside me.

"We will not know in two years," I say. Edward lives across the block from where my family live. I would go over to his house after school, mainly for homework or we would read on self-defense and fighting techniques. Myra, his girlfriend, always showed up.

"So, what faction do you think your brother would choose tomorrow?" asks Edward, as we walked down the sidewalk under our umbrellas.

In my family, I am one of four children. I have a brother two years older than me, Eric, and two younger siblings, a set of twins, Marietta and Martin, both of them twelve. Eric is a textbook Erudite. He's top of his class and has the natural inquisitiveness and curiosity of an Erudite. I'm won't be wrong tomorrow when he chooses the faction he was raised in.

"I'm not surprised if it's Erudite," I say.

Edward and I walk the streets and we get to the block where we live. My house is a two story, four bedroom, two bathroom, stone sided house, much like the other houses on this block. It's not like the homes in the Abnegation sector, where every house is identical in shape and structure.

"See you after the Choosing Ceremony," says Edward.

"You two," I say. We part and I head up the steps leading to the door. I turn the knob and open the door. Once in the dry warm house, I close the umbrella and put it in the nearby umbrella stand.

I take off my black dress shoes and set them by the door before venturing further into the house. Right now, the twins are in Middle Levels, and mother is at the Lower Levels School, teaching Literacy. Father is at Erudite headquarters. There are three leaders in Erudite, and my father is one of them. Jeanine Matthews, one of the leaders, is the main representative of our faction. In Erudite, we choose leaders based on their IQ score. I'm sure the Abnegation call it selfish.

Our government is solely run by the Abnegation. The reason is that leaders should be selfless. It's not that I hate them, but aren't intelligence and honesty also traits for leaders?

I carry my shoulder bag as I ascend the staircase. Eric isn't home by the looks of it. Probably at Erudite headquarters. I approach my bedroom door and flick the lights on.

I set the leather bag on my bed and I take out my homework.

An hour into doing my homework, I hear footsteps ascend the steps and someone goes into the bedroom adjacent to mine. Eric is probably home. He's most likely thinking about his result.

Tomorrow, it would be no surprise to me if he chooses Erudite.

* * *

By five PM, the rain has let up and the family sits for dinner. Eric and I sit on one side while Marietta and Martin sit at the other side of the table.

"Why did Jeanine want to see you?" father asks Eric.

Eric pauses before answering. "She just wanted to talk about leadership opportunities. Nothing to worry about."

"It's not a surprise," says mother. "You have the intellect of a leader."

I have two years until my Choosing Day. My parents say not to worry, but I can't help but wonder which faction I belong in. I know I'm not Abnegation. I'm not selfless enough. I'm divided on the issue of Amity. I'm kind but I doubt I'm that peaceful enough. I lie too much for Candor. I'm smart enough for Erudite, and brave for Dauntless.

Thing is, I'm not sure which one of the three I have aptitude for in two years.

"Well, I know where I'm going," says Marietta. "Candor."

Mother laughs softly. "Now, Marietta, you have four years until you take your aptitude test."

"No, mom, I know I'll be Candor," she says. "Ms. Nichols says I am cut out for one."

"Of course you'll be Candor, because you dribble the words carelessly from your mouth," argues Martin.

"I do not," she says, face red as a tomato.

I see Eric push his chair out before leaving the table, looking harassed about something. What has happened today that put him on edge today? Did the aptitude test say another faction? Wait, it couldn't have. He's everything an Erudite should be. He doesn't belong in anything but blue.

I leave the table to follow him. Hopefully I'll ask him what his problem is. I ascend the steps and I find him in his room, reading a book.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He looks up at me.

"Well, Meg, at least you cared to even ask."

The Erudite don't believe in nicknames. They believe their childish and petty, but Eric has been calling me Meg since I was six, because "Margaret was a mouthful."

I sit down next to him.

"Can you tell me what's wrong, Eric?" I ask.

He looks at me, his grey eyes serious. "I want a favor from you: when I go up the stage tomorrow to make my choice, don't be surprised by it."

The way he says it, I know what he means: he's not choosing Erudite tomorrow.

"You're leaving," I deduce. "Where?"

"You'll see tomorrow," he says.

I want to ask him if it has something to do with Jeanine Matthews, but I don't, because knowing him, he'll change the subject.

That night, I think about what Eric said. If he's not choosing Erudite, what will he choose? He can't be Abnegation or Amity. I doubt he qualifies for Candor. He's too intellectual for Dauntless.

However, I get my answer on Choosing Day. My family is one of the ones that arrive early.

Max, main representative of Dauntless, is performing the Choosing Ceremony this year. Looking at the line of sixteen year olds, I see a tall and scrawny Abnegation boy nervously look at his shoes. The line dwindles as each sixteen year old cuts their palm and chooses their faction.

"Matheson, Eric."

He strides up to Max, takes a knife and strides to the Dauntless bowl. Without hesitation, he cuts his palm and pours the blood in the lit coals.

I hear surprised and baffled murmurs in the crowd of Erudite. It's not a lie that I'm incredibly baffled myself. My older brother, my intelligent brother, who's top of his class, _Dauntless_?

I try straining my memory, of which it indicated that he would transfer to Dauntless. Then, I remember: when I went to his room to look for a book, I saw three different books on self-defense and fighting tactics. At the time, I thought it was his Erudite curiosity which is why he read those books and I didn't think anything of it. How could I have not seen it beforehand?

"Eaton, Tobias."

I see the scrawny nervous Abnegation boy from before as he walks slowly towards Max. He gingerly takes the knife and approaches the bowls. He looks at the Abnegation before slicing his palm over the Dauntless bowl.

I barely register the disapproving murmurs and baffled murmuring of the Abnegation as Tobias Eaton's blood spills into the coals, making him the first Abnegation transfer to Dauntless.


	2. Chapter One

_**Two Years Later **_

I wake up from my aptitude test, my palms shaking and sweating. The Dauntless woman administering my aptitude test – Tori – looks worried as she disconnects the wires from me, herself, and the computer monitor.

She leaves the room without a word. What has got her perplexed and worried? I chose the cheese over the knife, submitted myself to the dog before giving him the cheese, and threw myself at the dog when he was about to attack. Not to mention I lied to the man on the bus.

What happened during my test that caused her to react the way she did?

She comes back two minutes later.

"I apologize for that," she says, looking tense and shaken. "You were the second person today with that result."

"What result?" I demand.

"You know how the aptitude test works, right?" she asks.

I nod.

"Each stage of the simulation eliminates one or more of the factions, but you are the second person I tested today to only have two factions ruled out," she says.

My throat goes dry. Three factions? I know what this means. My results were inconclusive.

I'm a threat to the faction system.

"So my results were inconclusive?" I ask.

"Yes," she says. "You choosing the cheese over the knife was a Amity oriented response, but your intelligence with the dog before offering the cheese was an Erudite response. When you threw yourself at the dog, that was a Dauntless oriented response, and when I put you on the bus, Candor and Abnegation were ruled out."

"Erudite, Dauntless, and Amity?" I ask in a whisper. "Don't the latter two clash or something?"

"Yes, that's the problem," she says, scratching the back of her neck with her hand. "Giving the cheese to the dog was also a Amity oriented response."

"In other words, I have equal aptitude for three factions. I'm…Divergent." I say the last word in a whisper.

"Now, listen to me very closely," she says, grabbing my arms. "I wish I told this to the last girl I tested before you. Tomorrow, do not choose either Erudite or Dauntless. Both factions have their own ways of sniffing out people like you during initiation. I recommend that you choose Amity tomorrow."

"Well, what did you report my result as?" I ask.

"I reported it as Amity and that's the faction you should choose tomorrow," says Tori. "They won't find you there."

Unless Jeanine expands her resources to Amity to hunt down Divergents.

"Go back to the lunchroom. Think about what I said."

I return to the lunchroom, my legs shaking from nervousness. I head over to one of the Erudite tables and plop in my seat next to Edward, who's looking over a word search.

"How did your test go?" he asks, his question punctuated by the shouts coming from the Dauntless table.

"Good," I say. I can't really say that I have a aptitude for three factions, unless I wanted a target painted on my back or have the word "Divergent" stamped on my forehead.

I spend the rest of my time reading my book on the brain until the Abnegation volunteer speaks out.

"The aptitude tests are now finished," she says. "Remember that you are not permitted to discuss your results with anyone, not even your friends or family. The Choosing Ceremony will be tomorrow evening at the Hub. Plan to arrive at least ten minutes before it begins. You are dismissed."

I stand up and take my book and shoulder bag, following my fellow faction members.

When we leave the cafeteria, Albert from Candor, who sits next to me during Faction History, stands next to me.

"I think I'm going to get sick," he says.

"I'm sure you did well," I assure him.

"Good thing we're not supposed to share our results, otherwise my parents won't believe me if I tell them."

Among the Candor, I like Albert. He's not rude like the other Candor. He's kind. I have no trouble with honesty, but there are times where we should keep things private.

I see a Patrick Lovelace, my Science Lab partner, shove Caleb Prior, the Abnegation boy who sits behind me in Faction History, to the floor.

"Watch where you're going, Stiff!" yells Patrick. He chuckles and he leaves with his friends.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," says Albert.

"Take care," I say, before going to Caleb to help him pick up his books. I pick up his math and science textbook before offering them to him.

"Thank you," he says, taking the books, not knowing what to think of the offer. I could see why. My faction has released antagonistic reports against the Abnegation for the past six months. Both factions never have gotten along but my faction has decided to use the paper as means to undermine them. This has increased the tension to the point where Erudite dependents shove Abnegation dependents in the hallway or knocking the books from their hands.

"Anytime," I say, nodding.

He smiles before walking off. Hopefully that gives him the idea that not all the Erudite are smug, stuck up, know it all's.

I adjust the strap of my bag as I go outside to catch the bus.

* * *

I sit in a bus with a handful of Erudite, Amity, and Candor. Everyone is silent, even Peter Hayes from Candor, who's usually loud and boisterous. I only have one class with him, Historical Literacy, and he's not quiet.

Not surprising coming from Candor.

The bus stops in front of Erudite headquarters and I get off the bus with the Erudite. I decide to go home instead of visiting Edward or going to Erudite headquarters. I especially don't want to go to the latter because I don't want the chance of Jeanine summoning me.

I don't hate her per se, but she makes me uncomfortable sometimes. When she looks at you, it's like she's looking straight through you. Not to mention she's after Divergents. Unbeknownst to her, I'm on her kill list.

The late summer sun casts its rays on the surface, the cool breeze filling the air as I approach my house. My parents are at work and when I enter, I head straight upstairs. Instead of going to my room, I go to Eric's old room, which is still the same as he left it two years ago.

The last time I saw Eric after his transfer was Visiting Day. He almost looked like a stranger, with the ink running up his neck and wearing black, but it was like he never changed to us. I never heard from him or saw him after that, but last year, I heard Jeanine telling father that Eric replaced a Dauntless leader.

Seventeen is considered too young, but Eric was mature enough for leadership. Besides, you're only a Dauntless member until your forty or have passed physical prime, so it makes logical sense for their faction leaders to start at seventeen.

I sit on his bed and set my shoulder bag down.

I think about Tori's warning.

"_Tomorrow, do not choose either Erudite or Dauntless. Both factions have their own ways of sniffing people like you out during initiation. I recommend that you choose Amity tomorrow."_

I'm smart enough Erudite, but that will put me where the person hunting Divergents is at, and I can't risk that. I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my days in Amity, working in the orchards to pick fruit and play the banjo, but I doubt I'm even that peaceful enough.

Which leaves Dauntless. Tori warned me not to go there either, that they would hunt me down. My brother is a leader there. I'm safe. He'll cover up my Divergence, which I don't doubt.

But one con is that I'll be seeing a complete stranger.

* * *

The family sits down at the table, eating dinner.

"You're awfully quiet," asks mother.

"I'm just thinking, that's all," I say.

"Were you the one that got sick during your aptitude test?" asks dad.

"No, why?" I ask.

"I heard Cara tell Fredrick that one of the dependents have gotten under the weather during the test and was released early. Did you hear about it?"

I shake my head 'no' and say, "I wasn't the one who became ill nor did I hear about it."

Dinner goes on, and I hear Martin and Marietta discuss the assignment that they had today. When dessert arrives, the table topic turns to Marcus Eaton, the sole representative of Abnegation.

"Did you read the recent report about the Abnegation?" asks dad.

Mother nods and says, "The poor boy. No child should have to go what he went through."

"What happened?" asks Martin.

"Marcus Eaton beat his son, and his cruelty led to his son transferring factions," says dad. "No one can blame the boy for choosing Dauntless, and unsurprisingly, the councilmen are coming to his defense, which is a shame."

I remember Tobias Eaton, then a scrawny Abnegation kid, nervously walk up to Max two years ago. He was the only transfer from Abnegation to Dauntless. No one else has transferred from Abnegation to Dauntless, which is pretty ironic because it takes bravery to be selfless.

"How do you know they are true?" asks Marietta.

"Your older brother was one of those from Dauntless that talked to the reporter. Of course one would see the scars on his back and hear him thrashing at night," says dad.

Eric is and was never Candor, but I doubt he'll lie about something like that.

"I should have investigated when I was his Lower Levels teacher," says mother. "Abnegation children always speak when they're spoken to, but he was the most withdrawn of all of them. That's a sign that something was wrong at home."

"Everyone probably wishes they have done something," says father. "Fortunately, he's away from that man who's a poor excuse for selflessness."

That night I lay in bed, deep in thought.

I will choose Dauntless. I know it. I will not be surprised if Tori told me I made a huge mistake. I don't care. If my brother is one of the faction leaders, so I should be safe.

* * *

The bus we take to get to the Choosing Ceremony is full of people in sharp, clean-cut blue clothing. I nervously tug my blue suit jacket as we arrive at the Hub. I decided on pants matching the hue of my suit jacket.

I gulp as I follow my family out of the bus, my hands stuffed in my pockets. I know where I'm going but I fear I'll pass out when my name is called.

The elevator is empty when we enter but it doesn't take long for it to crowd up. When we go up every floor, I feel like my heart rate grows faster each time until it might burst. When the elevator door slides open, we enter the auditorium where the ceremony takes place.

Each faction is separated by columns, with the Erudite sitting at the third column. I stand in a line with the other sixteen year olds, situated between an Amity girl and a Candor boy. I look at the bowls. When Marcus calls my name, I am not to hesitate. I will take the knife from his hands and I will pour my blood in the coals.

Because a Divergent will hesitate.

It's not long before Marcus appears to the stage.

"Welcome," he says. "Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day we honor the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that every man has the right to choose his own way in this world.

"Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be." Marcus's voice is solemn and gives equal weight to each word. "Decades ago our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a warring world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of human personality—of humankind's inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world's disarray."

My eyes shift to the bowls in the center of the room. I will choose Dauntless. I have read the manifesto and taught myself on fighting tactics.

"Those who blamed aggression formed Amity."

I'm kind but not peaceful enough.

"Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite."

It's going to be hard leaving but that's how life works.

"Those who blamed duplicity created Candor."

I'm not some rude individual who randomly spills out private facts.

"Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation."

I'm too selfish. If something happens I will put myself before others. I'm told that self-preservation doesn't equate selfishness. But somehow, the Abnegation does.

"And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless."

I'm brave enough. I'm smart to the point where I can fit in there.

"Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for many years, each contributing to a different sector of society. Abnegation has fulfilled our need for selfless leaders in government; Candor has provided us with trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and researchers; Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers; and Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both within and without. But the reach of each faction is not limited to these areas. We give one another far more than can be adequately summarized. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life."

I think of the motto: _Faction before Blood_. Its barbaric coming to think of it, but you will create a new family in your new faction.

Marcus adds, "Apart from them, we would not survive. Therefore this day marks a happy occasion—the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world."

A round of applause.

One by one, each sixteen-year-old steps out of line and walks towards the five bowls. The first girl to choose decides on Amity, the same faction from which she came. I watch her blood droplets fall on soil.

Each group of faction initiates grow larger on the stage. A new name and a new person choosing, a new knife and a new choice. Edward chooses Dauntless, which doesn't come as a surprise. When it's Myra's turn, she chooses Dauntless as well. I bite my lip. She probably won't last a day, since she is too kind. She belongs in Amity.

"Caleb Prior," says Marcus.

I see Caleb squeeze the hand of an Abnegation girl standing next to him and he walks away, casting a long look at her over his shoulder. I watch his feet move to the center of the stage and his hands, steady as they accept the knife from Marcus, are deft as one presses the knife into the other. Then he stands with blood pooling in his palm, and his lip snags on his teeth.

He breathes out. And then in. And then he holds his hand over the Erudite bowl, and his blood drips into the water, turning it a deeper shade of red.

The outrage coming from the Abnegation is not surprising. He's the ninth transfer from Abnegation to Erudite. The last one was three years ago. I look over to the Erudite initiates, they wear smug smiles and nudge each other. The Abnegation, normally reserved and calm, speak to one another in tense whispers and glare across the auditorium at the faction that is their enemy.

"Excuse me," says Marcus, but the crowd doesn't hear him. He shouts, "Quiet, please!"

The room goes silent.

"Beatrice Prior."

The Abnegation girl who was standing next to Caleb slowly walks up to Marcus. He offers her the knife and she slowly approaches the bowls. She cuts her palm and holds it over the grey stones residing in the Abnegation bowl. She takes a deep breath before jerking her shaking hand to the Dauntless bowl and her blood drops into the sizzling coals.

The Abnegation mutter in disapproval as she reaches her new faction. She is the second Abnegation to transfer to Dauntless after Tobias Eaton.

A few more people make their choices.

"Margaret Matheson."

I stride over to Marcus and take the knife without looking at him. Without a moment's hesitation, I walk to the Dauntless bowl, cut my palm, and watch as my blood drops into the coals.

I walk over to the Dauntless initiates and stand next to Beatrice. She sends me a wary glance. Most likely because the blue I'm wearing represents the faction she hates. I smile at her and she relaxes slightly.

I watch as the others make their choice. The last girl chooses Amity and it's time to leave. The Dauntless members move from their seats and we the initiates follow. Behind me, is a red haired Erudite boy. Rupert I think. I didn't have classes with him but I have seen him every now and then at Erudite headquarters. Timid boy as well.

When the Dauntless reach the stairs, they shout in a celebratory fashion and begin running down the stairs. Beatrice and I exchange a glance before taking off after them, running down twenty flights of stairs. I am out of breath when we reach the first floor, and the Dauntless burst through the exit. Outside, the air is crisp and cold and the sky is orange from the setting sun.

The Dauntless sprawl across the street, blocking the path of a bus, and I run, catching up with the Dauntless-born. I'm thankful that I wore my trousers instead of a skirt. I follow the Dauntless down the street and around the corner and hear the train horn.

"Oh no," mumbles an Erudite boy named Will. "Are we supposed to hop on that thing?"

"Yeah," answers Beatrice, sounding breathless.

When the train approaches, the Dauntless hop on first, followed by the Dauntless-born. I run next to the train, grab the door handle and jump before entering the train car. Slowly, the other transfers jump on. I see Rupert running by the train. I reach my hand forward, waiting for him to catch my hand.

He struggles, trying to keep up, only that he is getting farther from the train instead of closer. He falls to his knees next to the tracks as we sail away.

I get away from the door and sit inside it against the wall. I remove the pin from my dark brown hair and let it fall down in waves down my shoulders and back.

Sitting across from me is Albert, taking deep breaths. Choosing Dauntless was the last thing I would expect him to do. I thought for sure he was going to choose Amity.

He looks at me and says, "Are they trying to kill us or what?"

* * *

"They're jumping off!"

I slowly rise to my feet and go to the door. The train has slowed down in the past few minutes, and I see that the boy who shouted is right: The Dauntless in the cars ahead of us are jumping out as the train passes a rooftop.

I stand back and stand in a line against the wall with the other transfers.

"We have to jump off too, then," a Candor girl says.

"Great," Peter replies, "because that makes perfect sense, Molly. Leap off a train onto a roof."

"This is kind of what we signed up for, Peter," Molly points out.

I ready myself before running and jumping from the train. It's like I'm flying before I land on my feet. I hear others jump onto the roof.

"That was fun," says a dark-skinned Candor girl.

That was a bit of a understatement. I felt my first rush of adrenaline.

Then I hear a wail. A few people turn to see the source of the scream. A Dauntless boy holds a Dauntless girl at the waist to keep her steady. Looks like someone fell to their death.

Not that I want that mental image.

"Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction!" he shouts, standing on a ledge like it's a sidewalk. "Several stories below us is the members' entrance to our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first."

"You want us to jump off a ledge?" asks Myra.

"Yes," Max says. He looks amused.

"Is there water at the bottom or something?"

"Who knows?" He raises his eyebrows.

The crowd in front of the initiates splits in half, making a wide path for us. Beatrice is the first one to step forward. Max steps aside to clear her way. She looks down at the ledge as she takes off her long grey overcoat, balls it up and throws it at Peter's chest.

She jumps.

Max checks his watch as the dark-skinned Candor girl steps forward. He gives her a nod before she jumps off, screaming on the way down.

A dark skinned Dauntless boy approaches the ledge.

"Go, Uriah!" a girl shouts.

Uriah is the third one to jump and I step forward. Max checks his watch and gives me a nod.

I turn around, and raise my arms before jumping off.

The hole surrounds me and I drop into darkness. It's not long before my back hits what feels like a net. Two pairs of hands reach out and I take them before jumping from the net.

"A Erudite. I was wondering when we'll see one," says a girl, her eyebrow pierced three times.

"What's your name?" asks another Dauntless. He looks vaguely familiar but I can't place him.

"Meg," I answer.

"Fourth jumper – Meg!" he shouts.

A crowd forms in the darkness as my eyes adjust. They cheer and pump their fists, and then another person drops into the net. I look to see a Dauntless-born.

The boy says, smiling in greeting, "Welcome to Dauntless."


	3. Chapter Two

When all the initiates stand on solid ground again, our two greeters lead us down a narrow tunnel. The walls are made of stone, and the ceiling slopes, like a artist used a stone chisel. The tunnel is lit at long intervals, so in the dark space between each dim lamp, I make sure that I don't bump into someone.

Our two leaders stop and face us.

"This is where we divide," says the girl. "The Dauntless-born initiates are with me. I assume _you_ don't need a tour of the place."

They leave with her, which just leaves the ten of us. There is only one Abnegation transfer (Now going by the name of Tris), there are five Candor, and four Erudite, counting me.

The boy addresses us next. "Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor," he says. "My name is Four."

I raise my eyebrow and bite my lip. Four? That has to be a nickname. It's not logical for an individual to name their child after a number.

"Four? Like the number?" asks the dark-skinned Candor girl.

"Yes," Four says. "Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It—"

The same girl snickers. "The Pit? Clever name."

Four walks up to her leans his face close to hers. His eyes narrow. That was a stupid idea on her part, picking with a Dauntless who looks as tough as he is.

"What's your name?" he asks quietly.

"Christina," she squeaks.

"Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction," he hisses. "The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"

She nods.

Four starts toward the shadow at the end of the tunnel. The crowd of initiates moves on in silence.

"What a jerk," I hear Christina mumble behind me.

"I guess he doesn't like to be laughed at," says Tris in response.

At least Tris is smart. I'm not scared of Four but this guy looks like he might punch you and knock you out if you make the wrong move with him.

Four pushes a set of double doors open, and we walk into the place he called "the Pit."

"Oh," whispers Christina. "I get it."

It's a understatement. It is an underground cavern so huge I can't see the other end of it from where I stand, at the bottom. Uneven rock walls rise several stories above my head. Built into the stone walls are places for food, clothing, supplies, leisure activities. Narrow paths and steps carved from rock connect them. There are no barriers to keep people from falling over the side.

A slant of orange light stretches across one of the rock walls. Forming the roof of the Pit are panes of glass and, above them, a building that lets in sunlight.

Blue lanterns dangle at random intervals above the stone paths, growing brighter as the sunlight dims.

People are everywhere, all dressed in black, all shouting and talking, expressive, gesturing. This is a faction where you have to be of physical prime to be a member, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that I don't see elderly Dauntless.

A group of children run down a narrow path with no railing. If this were Erudite, they would have an adult with them.

"If you follow me," says Four, "I'll show you the chasm."

He waves us forward. Four's appearance seems tame from the front, by Dauntless standards, but when he turns around, I see a tattoo peeking out from the collar of his t-shirt. He leads us to the right side of the Pit, which is conspicuously dark. I squint and see that the floor I stand on now ends at an iron barrier. As we approach the railing, I hear a roar—water, fast-moving water, crashing against rocks.

I look over the side. The floor drops off at a sharp angle, and several stories below us is a river. Gushing water strikes the wall beneath me and sprays upward. To my left, the water is calmer, but to my right, it is white, battling with rock. Across it is a bridge without a rail.

An underground river. How about that?

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" Four shouts. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned."

I shudder at the thought of jumping. Drowning is not a pleasant way to go.

"This is incredible," says Christina, as everyone but me move away from the railing. I can't bring myself from detaching myself from the railing.

"Incredible is the word," I hear Tris say.

Four leads the group of initiates across the Pit toward a gaping hole in the wall. The room beyond is well-lit enough that I can see where we're going: a dining hall full of people and clattering silverware. When we walk in, the Dauntless inside stand. They applaud. They stamp their feet. They shout. The noise surrounds me and fills me. The atmosphere is contagious enough that I smile.

I follow Albert and most of the other transfers to a table half empty where the Dauntless-born are sitting. I and the other three Erudite transfers sit on one side and four of the Candor transfers sit across from us. Tris and Christina are probably sitting at another table.

I take off my suit jacket, leaving me only in my trousers and white short sleeved blouse.

In the center of the table is a platter of food, most of which I recognize. I take a hamburger and begin eating it.

"I can't believe we are actually here," says Albert.

"If you fell in the gap we wouldn't be," says Peter, before turning to his hamburger.

"Ready for training?" asks a Dauntless boy with a nose ring. "I heard that transfers have it harder than the Dauntless-born."

"If we're prepared, we'll have nothing to worry about," I say.

"I like that you know what you're getting yourself into," says a dark-skinned Dauntless boy. He extends his hand. "Aiden."

"Meg," I introduce, shaking his hand.

At that moment, we hear the doors open and the room hushes for a moment. I don't see who it is. I just keep eating my lunch.

"How does training go?" asks Albert timidly.

"We're not telling you," says a girl with a shaved head.

"Why not?" asks Will.

The Dauntless-born training differs somewhat from the transfer training. But to say it this way, we'll have it harder then you guys."

"We're the transfers," says a Candor boy with carrot colored hair. "Shouldn't it be hard for us?"

I see Four walk across the room after someone calls his name from a table. A mousy haired Dauntless girl looks at someone and whispers to Uriah, who looks just as peeved.

"He gave Four a hard time and now he's coming towards here," says a Dauntless girl.

Before I could ask, I someone covers my eyes with their hands.

"Can you guess who this is?" I hear a rough and deep but familiar voice ask me.

"Eric?" I guess.

The hands withdraw and I look behind to see my brother.

He looks taller then I last saw him. He still has that neck tattoo, though he acquired tattoos on both his forearms. His blond hair is shaved at the sides, with two microdermals above his right eyebrow and ear gauges with black plugs. I notice that everyone is rigid as a board but myself.

"Decided to choose Dauntless?" he asks. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"I'm not surprised to see you here," I say. I don't know what else to say. Since I haven't been around him for two years.

"Just checking to see if these kids didn't feed you horror stories about me," he says, nodding at the Dauntless-borns.

Albert gulps.

"What makes the truth horror stories?" the mousy-haired Dauntless girl asks.

"Two years does not make you know a whole person," says Eric. "Well, I have to give Max some information." He looks at me and says, "I'll be seeing you with the other transfers, Meg."

He pats my shoulder before leaving us. The Dauntless-born and everyone else at the table look at me.

"You know that guy?" asks Albert nervously.

"He's my older brother," I say.

"That total dickweed is your _brother_?" asks the girl with the shaved head, looking baffled.

"That's not a nice thing to say," I point out. But I wonder what reputation he amassed among the Dauntless.

"As if you know him."

Uriah nudges her shoulder and districts her by balancing a hamburger on his head. Everyone laughs.

I'm glad that he created a distraction.

* * *

After dinner, my brother leads us down a series of hallways without telling us where we're going. That must be a Dauntless thing. Not telling initiates where you're taking them.

At the end of each hallway is a blue lamp, but between them it's dark, and one has to be careful not to stumble. Albert walks beside me in silence.

Eric stops in front of a wooden door and folds his arms. We gather around him.

"For those of you who don't know, my name is Eric," he says. "I am one of five leaders of the Dauntless. We take the initiation process very seriously here, so I volunteered to oversee most of your training."

I hear Christina mutter, "Four and Eric? You got to be kidding me." Tris looks at him like he's holding a knife while Albert is white as a sheet. I'm sure he wouldn't be that bad. But I'm probably too biased.

"Some ground rules," he says. "You have to be in the training room by eight o'clock every day. Training takes place every day from eight to six, with a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get some time off between each stage of initiation. You are only permitted to leave the compound when accompanied by a Dauntless. Behind this door is the room where you will be sleeping for the next few weeks.

"In the first stage of initiation, we keep transfers and Dauntless-born initiates separate, but that doesn't mean you are evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the Dauntless-born initiates. And they are better than you are already. So I expect—"

"Rankings?" asks Myra. "Why are we ranked?"

I suppress a frustrated sigh.

Eric smiles, and in the blue light, his smile looks wicked. I'm surprised he looks so menacing.

"Your ranking serves two purposes," he says. "The first is that it determines the order in which you will select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available. "The second purpose is that only the top ten initiates are made members."

A pin drop follows his words. Everyone standing still as statues. And then Christina says, "_What_?"

"There are ten Dauntless-borns, and ten of you," Eric answers. "Four initiates will be cut at the end of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test."

There are twenty of us total, so of course they would cut half of the initiates. As unfair as it seems, it makes sense. They don't want overcrowding and not every initiate is Dauntless material. I look at Albert, who is too kind for this faction. Not a cruel bone in his body. He won't last a day. From the corner of my eye, I see Christina look at Tris, but she just stares at my brother.

Tris's odds aren't good, being the only Abnegation transfer. It will be a miracle if she made it.

"What do we do if we're cut?" Peter says.

I snort. How stupid can he get? Getting cut means being factionless.

"You leave the Dauntless compound," says Eric indifferently, "and live factionless."

Myra clamps her hand over her mouth and stifles a sob. Albert just looks at his feet, looking crestfallen.

"But that's…not fair!" Molly protests. "If we had known—"

"Are you saying that if you had known this before the Choosing Ceremony, you wouldn't have chosen Dauntless?" Eric snaps. "Because if that's the case, you should get out now. If you are really one of us, it won't matter to you that you might fail. And if it does, you are a coward."

I nod, knowing that he has a point. Just because you test for that faction, that doesn't mean you qualify.

Eric pushes the door to the dormitory open.

"You chose us," he says. "Now we have to choose you."


	4. Chapter Three

"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight." Four presses a gun into our palms without looking at us. "Thankfully, if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that. Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time."

For someone who has held books in her life, this weapon feels alien to me. However, I must learn fast in case my life is threatened.

"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear," says Four. "Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental."

"But what…" Peter yawns through his words. "What does firing a gun have to do with…bravery?"

That's dangerous. Holding a loaded weapon while tired from a night's sleep.

Four flips the gun in his hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. Really? Did Four have to do that? But then again, this is Dauntless.

"Wake. Up," Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."

He lowers the gun. Once the immediate threat is gone, Peter's green eyes harden. I expect him to talk back, but he doesn't. Maybe he got the message that Four doesn't tolerate Candors being smart mouths.

"And to answer your question…you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." Four stops walking at the end of the row and turns on his heel. "This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me."

He faces the wall with the targets on it—one square of plywood with three red circles on it for each of us. He stands with his feet apart, holds the gun in both hands, and fires. While the bangs are loud, the demonstration is more important than the noise.

I turn to my own target. I set my feet shoulder-width apart, and delicately wrap both hands around the handle of the gun. It's heavy but I manage to lift it away from my body. I squeeze the trigger and I see the bullet go through the middle circle.

The room becomes filled with the sound of bullets hitting targets. While I defaced my target into Swiss cheese, Albert's bullets have not hit the target. There's no bullet hole in sight.

"Try watching me," I say, before turning to my target and firing another bullet.

Even at the end of practicing with guns, Albert's target hasn't been hit with bullets.

* * *

By the time we break for lunch, my arms throb from holding up the gun and my fingers are hard to straighten. I massage them on my way to the dining hall. The more I'll hold a gun, I'll get used to it. Christina invites me and Albert (who now goes by Al) over to where she and Tris are sitting.

"Your name is Meg, right?" she asks.

"Yes. Full name is Margaret, but that's a mouthful," I say. "Eric gave me that moniker."

"You know that jerk?" asks Christina.

"He's my brother," I say. "I haven't reconnected with him, and I would rather not hear what a jerk he is."

Christina shrugs and turns to Al. Next her, Tris is turning the contents of her plate with her fork.

"Oh, come on. You don't remember me?" Christina asks Al as she makes a sandwich. "We were in Math together just a few days ago. And I am not a quiet person."

"I slept through Math most of the time," Al replies. "It was first hour!"

"Well, Tris, do you remember me?" asks Christina.

She doesn't answer. Just stares at her plate.

"Tris," says Christina. She snaps her fingers in front of her face. "You in there?"

"What? What is it?" she answers, snapping out of her reverie.

"I asked if you remember ever taking a class with me," she says. "I mean, no offense, but I probably wouldn't remember if you did. All the Abnegation looked the same to me. I mean, they still do, but now you're not one of them"

Okay, that was rude. Tris didn't need that. Predictably, she doesn't answer.

"Sorry, am I being rude?" Christina asks. "I'm used to just saying whatever is on my mind. Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging."

"I think that's why our factions don't usually associate with each other," she says, with a short laugh.

Christina turns to me. "Do you remember taking a class with me?"

"The class was too large in size," I say. "I know Al here."

"Can I sit here?" says Will, tapping the table with his finger.

"What, you don't want to hang out with your Erudite buddies?" says Christina. Um, I should be considered an Erudite.

"They aren't my buddies," says Will, setting his plate down. "Just because we were in the same faction doesn't mean we get along. Plus, Edward and Myra are dating, and I would rather not be the third wheel."

Edward and Myra sit two tables away, so close they bump elbows as they cut their food. Myra pauses to kiss Edward. Edward turns his head and presses his lips to Myra's. In Erudite, public displays of affection were tolerable unless the couple made out. In Abnegation, I'm not surprised that public displays of affection are considered a taboo.

Tris looks away.

"Do they have to be so public?" she asks.

"She just kissed him." Al frowns at her. "It's not like they're stripping naked."

"A kiss is not something you do in public."

I can't help but smile. The Abnegation is still clinging to her.

"What?" she demands.

"You're Abnegation is showing," I say. "The rest of us are all right with a little affection in public."

"Oh." Tris shrugs. "Well…I guess I'll have to get over it, then."

"Or you can stay frigid," says Will, his eyes glinting with mischief. "You know. If you want."

Christina throws a roll at him. He catches it and bites it.

"Don't be mean to her," she says. "Frigidity is in her nature. Sort of like being a know-it-all is in yours and Meg's."

"I am not frigid!" she exclaims, turning red.

"Don't worry about it," says Will. "It's endearing. Look, you're all red."

She turns even redder. We all laugh and she joins in, first it sounds forced before it sounds natural.

* * *

After lunch, Four leads us to a new room. It's huge, with a concrete floor and a raised platform in the middle. On the left wall is a chalkboard. In Middle and Upper Levels, they used whiteboards instead.

Our names are written on the board in alphabetical order. Hanging at three-foot intervals along one end of the room are large, orange punching bags.

We line up behind them and Four stands in the middle, where we can all see him.

"As I said this morning," says Four, "next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges—which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless. We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other, So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt."

Four names a few different punches, demonstrating each one as he does, first against the air and then against the punching bag.

I use the memory I have of fighting techniques as I batter the punching bag, keeping all the tension in my abdomen. Halfway through, my punching bag is swaying from the effects of the punches and kicks. Next to me is Tris. Her punching bag not budging.

Four wanders through the crowd of initiates, watching us as we go through the movements again.

"You better take it easy," says Four.

"I know what I'm doing," I say.

He looks at me, both impressed and wary at the same time before moving to Tris.

"You don't have much muscle," he says to her, "which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."

I watch as he presses a hand to my stomach.

"Never forget to keep tension there," he says.

Four lifts his hand and keeps walking.

When Four dismisses us for dinner, I walk with Al.

"That was exhausting," he says. "I dread tomorrow, though."

"Why is that?" I ask.

"It's one thing to batter a punching bag," says Al. "You're not hurting them."

Al _really _belongs in Amity. He didn't strike me as the Dauntless type anyway.

When we get to the Pit, he turns around to Christina and Tris, who are walking behind us and says, "I want to get a tattoo."

From behind them, Will asks, "A tattoo of what?"

"I don't know." Al laughs. "I just want to feel like I've actually left the old faction. Stop crying about it." When we don't respond, he adds, "I know you've heard me."

I spent the first half of the night hearing him cry. Not that I blame him.

"Yeah, learn to quiet down, will you?" Christina pokes Al's arm. "I think you're right. We're half in, half out right now. If we want all the way in, we should look the part."

She gives Tris a look.

"No, I will not cut my hair," she says, "or dye it a strange color. Or pierce my face.

"How about your bellybutton?" asks Christina.

Tris groans.

"I have no qualms with dying my hair," I say. "And getting a tattoo."

The Pit is swarming with people. Christina announces that she, Tris, and I will meet Al and Will at the tattoo parlor before dragging us to the clothing place.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Tris says. "I'm not wearing grey anymore."

"They're ugly and gigantic." She sighs. "Meg looks just as bad and she's from Erudite. Will you just let me help you? If you two don't like what I put you in, you never have to wear it again. I promise."

Ten minutes later, Tris and I stand in front of a mirror. She is wearing a knee-length dress. I'm wearing a leather skirt that goes five inches below my thighs, tights, knee high black boots and a form fitting, black shirt.

Christina gives us eyeliner, only that Tris is hesitant then I am.

We stop at the hair salon and the woman quickly puts blond streaks in my hair. Margaret from Erudite was proper and poised. But Meg from Dauntless is edgy.

When we get to the tattoo parlor, Al is in a chair already, and a small, narrow man with more ink then flesh is drawing a spider on his arm.

Will, Christina, and I flip through the books as Tris wanders the room.

"Which one should I get?" asks Christina, glancing at the sketches. I look at book I'm holding. I flip through the pages until one catches my eye. It's an ancient symbol, representing two different things.

Ying and Yang they call it.

When Tori is finished drawing the crows on Tris's chest, she draws the intricate design on my upper right arm.

She doesn't say anything, but her lips are pursed. I can tell that she's not happy with me. I disregarded her advice to transfer to Amity. I shouldn't have to worry, with my brother as a faction leader.

Thing is, Eric was at assignment in Erudite today. That's what I heard.

When Tori is finished, she bandages my arm and gives me instructions on how to properly clean it.

When we leave for the cafeteria, we pass a bunch of Dauntless. Four, Uriah, and another Dauntless man go into the tattoo parlor, but the others stay behind.

"Whoa," says Aiden.

"What? Two much?" I ask

"No, but you sure you look…_Dauntless,_" he says.

Christina smiles at him before pulling me and Tris away.

"Looks like he likes you," says Christina.

"Don't exaggerate, Christina," I say.

"Well, if you like a Dauntless-born, maybe I can hook up Tris with one," says Christina.

"Shut up," she groans.


	5. Chapter Four

**I bought **_**Four: A Divergent Collection**_**. To say it was rad was an understatement. Now what headcanon I created will be mixed with the canon I recently discovered. I'll stick to my established canon, like when Amar faked his death.**

* * *

"Today, each of you will start testing your abilities to protect yourselves during an attack," says Four, as he steps away from the board in the training room. I look at it:

Will .vs. Al

Molly .vs. Christina

Peter .vs. Myra

Edward .vs. Drew

Tris .vs. Meg

I look over at Tris, wide eyed. She's seven inches shorter than me and not enough muscle. I really don't want to beat her up until she is a bloody pulp, but I don't want to go easy on her either.

Tris looks nervous. I guess she knows the outcome of our fight already.

"This isn't good," says Christina, nudging Tris with her elbow. As if we didn't run miles this morning for workout.

"Ow," says Tris quietly.

Sorry," she says. "But look. I'm up against the Tank."

"The Tank?" Tris asks her puzzled, as she looks at the board.

"Yeah, Peter's slightly more feminine-looking minion," she says, nodding toward the cluster of people on the other side of the room. Molly is a tall like Christina, but that's where the similarities end. Her skin is lighter and she has shoulder length brown hair with bangs that nearly cover her eyebrows.

"Those three"—Christina points at Peter, Drew, and Molly in turn—"have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them."

Will and Al stand across from each other on the platform. They put their hands up by their faces to protect themselves, as Four taught us, and shuffle in a circle around each other. Al is half a foot taller than Will, and twice as broad. Al maybe big, but Will is smart and might be able to take him down.

Tris and I glance at Peter and his friends. He and Molly pull their heads together and whisper before laughing silently at Tris's and Christina's direction.

"What's wrong with them?" Tris asks.

"Peter is pure evil. When we were kids, he would pick fights with people from other factions and then, when an adult came to break it up, he'd cry and make up some story about how the other kid started it," answers Christina. "And of course, they believed him, because we were Candor and we couldn't lie. Ha ha."

"I never thought of him as being pure evil," I say. "Just loud and boisterous."

Perhaps I didn't know Peter well enough, but I heard it's a bad idea to listen to gossip.

"That's just part of it." Christina wrinkles her nose and adds, "Drew is just his sidekick. I doubt he has an independent thought in his brain. And Molly…she's the kind of person who fries ants with a magnifying glass just to watch them flail around."

On the platform, Al punches Will hard in the jaw. Maybe Al can do this. Across the room, my brother smirks at Al.

Will stumbles to the side, one hand pressed to his face, and blocks Al's next punch with his free hand. Judging by his grimace, blocking the punch is as painful as a blow would have been. However, upon further examination, though he's powerful, Al looks like he's restraining himself.

Peter, Drew, and Molly cast furtive looks in our direction and then pull their heads together, whispering.

"I think they know we're talking about them," says Tris.

"So? They already know I hate them," says Christina.

"They do? How?"

Christina fakes a smile at them and waves. The trio just gives each other puzzled looks before Peter waves back, not smiling. Tris looks down, her cheeks red. I don't want to engage in gossip anyway. It's not kind.

Not to mention that I barely know Peter and his friends anyway.

"Because I've told them," she says, through the gritted teeth of her smile. She looks at Tris. "We try to be pretty honest about our feelings in Candor. Plenty of people have told me that they don't like me. And plenty of people haven't. Who cares?"

"We just…weren't supposed to hurt people," Tris says.

Tris got that right.

"I like to think I'm helping them by hating them," Christina says. "I'm reminding them that they aren't God's gift to humankind."

Tris laughs a little. I look at her strangely. Shouldn't the Abnegation refrain from gossip? Especially about people who they barely know? Christina is probably a nice person but her gossiping about people makes me wary of her.

If someone gives you gossip about someone else, there is a high chance that that individual will gossip about you to someone else behind your back.

I focus on the fighting platform again. Will and Al face each other for a few more seconds, more hesitant than they were before. Will flicks his brown hair from his eyes. They glance at Four like they're waiting for him to call the fight off, but he stands with his arms folded, giving no response. A few feet away from him, Eric checks his watch, looking inpatient and irritated.

After a few seconds of circling, Eric shouts, "Do you think this is a leisure activity? Should we break for nap-time? Fight each other!"

"But…" Al straightens, letting his hands down, and says, "Is it scored or something? When does the fight end?"

"It ends when one of you is unable to continue," says Eric.

"According to Dauntless rules," Four says, "one of you could also concede."

Eric narrows his eyes at Four. "According to the _old _rules," he says. "In the _new_ rules, no one concedes."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others," Four replies.

"A brave man never surrenders."

Four and Eric stare at each other for a few seconds, like competition. I get the idea that those two don't get along so well. Perhaps they are alike in a way. You tend to not get along with people who are like you.

Beads of sweat dot Al's forehead; he wipes them with the back of his hand.

"This is ridiculous," Al says, shaking his head. "What's the point of beating him up? We're in the same faction!"

Come on, Al. just punch him. You'll make people walk all over you if you're too kind.

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" Will asks, grinning. "Go on. Try to hit me, slowpoke."

Al tries a punch, and Will ducks, the back of his neck shining with sweat. He dodges another punch, slipping around Al and kicking him hard in the back. Al lurches forward and turns. He charges at Will, grabbing his arm so he can't slip away, and punches him hard in the jaw.

Will's eyes roll back to his head and all the tension falls from his body. He slips from Al's grasp, and crumples to the platform. Al did it, but he's not the type to gloat.

Al's eyes widen, and he crouches next to Will, tapping his cheek with one hand. The room falls silent as we wait for Will to respond. For a few seconds, he doesn't, just lies on the platform with an arm bent beneath him. Then he blinks, clearly dazed.

"Get him up," Eric says. He has a cruel smirk on his face.

Four turns to the chalkboard and circles Al's name, indicating his victory. I have a feeling that Al would only win this fight.

"Next up—Molly and Christina!" shouts Eric. Al pulls Will's arm across his shoulders and drags him out of the arena.

Christina cracks her knuckles. Tris looks at her, like she wants to give her good luck. Christina isn't weak, but she's much narrower than Molly. Somehow, I know the outcome of this fight will not be pleasant.

Across the room, Four supports Will from the waist and leads him out. Al stands for a moment by the door, watching them go.

Tris looks at Eric, like there is about to be impending doom. I heard that my brother is a jerk, and a dickweed, but if Four put the gun barrel to Peter's head, I'm sure that my brother is capable of something similar, yet a tad worse.

If Dauntless initiation hardens you and wears you down, you might become hardened as well.

Both Christina and Molly ascend the platform. They both put their hands up by their faces and stare each other down. Molly looks at Christina like she is just a slab of meat. I cringe.

Christina kicks Molly in the side. Molly gasps and grits her teeth like she's about to growl through them. At least Christina made the first move.

Al moves between Tris and I. Tris doesn't look at him.

"Good job," I tell him quietly.

"Thanks, I guess," says Al, looking at his feet.

The way he sounds, he probably wishes that he didn't put Will in the infirmary.

Molly smirks at Christina, and without warning, dives, hands outstretched, at Christina's midsection. She hits her hard, knocking her down, and pins her to the platform. Christina thrashes, but Molly is heavy and doesn't budge.

She punches, and Christina moves her head out of the way, but Molly just punches again, and again, until her fist hits Christina's jaw, her nose, her mouth. I see Tris cling to Al, like she wants to hold on to something. Blood runs down the side of Christina's face and splatters on the platform next to her cheek. I look at my brother, hoping that he will call this fight off.

He just glances at me and looks at them, his arms folded.

Christina screams and drags one of her arms free. She punches Molly in the ear, knocking her off-balance, and wriggles free. She comes to her knees, holding her face with one hand. The blood streaming from her nose is thick and dark and covers her fingers in seconds. She screams again and crawls away from Molly. I can tell by the heaving of her shoulders that she's sobbing, but I can barely hear her over the throbbing in my ears.

_Eric, come on, call this fight off_.

Molly kicks Christina's side, sending her sprawling on her back. Al pulls Tris to his side.

"Stop!" wails Christina as Molly pulls her foot back to kick again. She holds out a hand. "Stop! I'm…" She coughs. "I'm done."

Molly smiles, and I slouch, the tension leaving my body. I notice that Tris and Al look relieved.

Eric walks up to the platform, his movements slow, and stands over Christina. He says quietly, "I'm sorry, what did you say? You're done?"

Christina pushes herself to her knees. When she takes her hand from the platform, it leaves a dark handprint behind. She pinches her nose to stop the bleeding and nods.

"Get up," he says. However, I wouldn't be more worried if he yelled. He grabs Christina's arm, yanks her to her feet, and drags her out the door.

"Follow me," he says to the rest of us.

And we do.

* * *

I feel the roar of the river in my chest.

We stand near the railing. The Pit is almost empty; it is the middle of the afternoon, and I look up at the glass ceiling above me.

Eric shoves Christina against the railing.

"Climb over it," he says.

"What?" She says it like she expects him to relent, but her wide eyes and ashen face suggest otherwise. My brother seems adamant.

"Climb over the railing," says Eric again, pronouncing each word slowly. "If you can hang over the chasm for five minutes, I will forget your cowardice. If you can't, I will not allow you to continue initiation."

The railing is narrow and made of metal. The spray from the river coats it, making it slippery and cold. One would have to hang on tight, to avoid from slipping.

"Fine," she says, her voice shaking.

She is tall enough to swing her leg over the railing. Her foot shakes. She puts her toe on the ledge as she lifts her other leg over. Facing us, she wipes her hands on her pants and holds on to the railing so hard her knuckles turn white. Then she takes one foot off the ledge. And the other. I see her face between the bars of the barrier, determined, her lips pressed together.

Next to me, Al sets his watch.

For the first minute and a half, Christina is fine. Her hands stay firm around the railing and her arms don't shake. This feels like the time when Four put the gun to Peter's head, only worse.

Two years ago, Eric wouldn't do this, but people change in two years and I suspect it's hardened his outer shells.

If Dauntless initiation wears us down, prepares us, we'll be brutal as well, but the extent of the brutality depends on the person.

Then the river hits the wall, and white water sprays against Christina's back. Her face strikes the barrier, and she cries out. Her hands slip so she's just holding on by her fingertips. She tries to get a better grip, but now her hands are wet.

I could help her, but my brother would chide me for interfering in a "lesson" that Christina was learning. If it were anyone else, he'd give them the same fate.

Another wave hits the wall and the spray coats her body. One of the droplets hits my cheek. Her hands slip again, and this time, one of them falls from the railing, so she's hanging by four fingertips.

"Come on, Christina," says Al, his low voice surprisingly loud. She looks at him. He claps. "Come on, grab it again. You can do it. Grab it."

Christina swings her arm, fumbling for the railing. No one else cheers her on, but Al brings his big hands together and shouts, his eyes looking at hers.

"Come on, Christina," Al, Tris, and I say. Encouragement should help her.

Another wave of water splashes against Christina's back, and she shrieks as both her hands slip off the railing. A scream launches from my mouth. It sounds like it belongs to someone else.

But she doesn't fall. She grabs the bars of the barrier. Her fingers slide down the metal until I can't see her head anymore; they are all I see.

Al's watch reads 5:00.

"Five minutes are up," he says, almost spitting the words at Eric.

Eric checks his own watch. Taking his time, tilting his wrist, making me groan in frustration.

"Fine," Eric says. "You can come up, Christina."

Al walks toward the railing.

"No," Eric says. "She has to do it on her own."

"No, she doesn't," Al growls. "She did what you said. She's not a coward. She did what you said."

Eric doesn't respond. Al reaches over the railing, and he's so tall that he can reach Christina's wrist. She grabs his forearm. Al pulls her up, his face red with frustration, and Tris runs forward to help.

* * *

Al takes Christina to the infirmary before we head back to the training room. Four returns and the daggers he sends Eric make me cringe. If the other initiates weren't here, they'd get into a physical confrontation.

Peter and Myra's fight lasts three minutes, with Peter emerging as victorious and Myra black and blue.

When I watch Edward fight Drew, I see Tris look like she's about to pass out. She knows that our fight is coming up. I don't blame her for being nervous. Who wouldn't be after witnessing Will slump like a rag doll and Eric making Christina hang over the chasm for five minutes because she surrendered.

The fight ends when Edward knocks Drew out.

"Last fight to go – Tris and Meg!" Eric shouts.

I hear Tris breathe deeply before we ascend the platform. Once we meet up, she looks smaller than ever.

I spread my legs apart, putting one hand up my face and another arm over my abdomen, guarding it. Tris puts her hands up her face, leaving her stomach exposed. She looks nervous, uncertain.

Four looks at us with apprehension as we circle each other, like he remembers something similar, while Eric looks expectant.

Tris sends a sloppy punch to my jaw. I block it with an elbow. She lifts her feet to kick me. I flip her. She pulls her foot free and hooks her feet around my ankle and yanks my foot forward, knocking me down.

I stand up before she does.

Since Eric is watching, he wouldn't want me to go easy, but I can't be too brutal.

When Tris gets up I punch her hard in the jaw before she can react. She stumbles backward, pressing her hand to her jaw. She tries sending an elbow up my chin. I block it and punch her in the nose.

She staggers. Though injured slightly, she tries to fight, but I'm too quick for her. I punch her hard in the eye before punching her mouth. Halfway conscious, she comes towards me. I kick her in the stomach with my foot and she falls.

Tris, dazed, still stands up, her nose bleeding. She misses when she punches and I send my fist below her bellybutton before sweep-kicking her feet from under her.

Barely conscious, Tris crawls on the platform, slumping when she tries lifting herself up.

"Someone get her out of here," says Eric.

I put my arms around her shoulders and drag her from the platform. She clings on to me as I helped her across the room.

When Four takes her from my hands, I see that my name is circled.

Tris spends an hour in the infirmary before it's time for dinner.

* * *

I don't join Christina and Tris for lunch. Instead, I sit with some of the Dauntless-born.

"Well, I didn't know you would catch me off guard, Uriah," says the girl with the shaved head.

"You were getting too cocky, Lynn," says Uriah.

She just rolls her eyes.

The mousy-haired Dauntless girl, who is named Marlene, pulls out a stack of cards and she plays with Uriah.

I finish up my chocolate cake before heading out.

"Why weren't you sitting with your fellow transfers?" I hear my brother ask me.

I turn to him. "I didn't feel like it. Anyway, if I am to become a Dauntless, I should associate with the Dauntless-born."

"Point taken," he says. "Let's go up to my place and talk for a while."

I follow Eric through the Pit. People spread out and make way as he passes through the crowd of people. Most likely because he is a Dauntless leader.

But what is cringe worthy are the whispers and looks that people give him. like he is a force to be reckoned with.

I follow him up the stairs to the glass building. The glass ceiling becomes a floor under my feet as I enter a cylindrical room, milling with Dauntless members. Above me, two ropes stretch across the room, one a few feet higher than the other, and Dauntless members are walking across them and performing other daring acts.

"For further reference, we call this building the Pire," Eric explains. "If you have a desirable position after initiation, chances are they'll give you an apartment here."

He approaches a set of stairs without railings and I follow him up two floors. The corridor has black wooden doors, one with each a letter and a number in metal lettering. He stops at a door labeled _B12_. He takes out his keys from his pocket, unlocks the door and opens it.

In an alcove, sits a bed with a black quilt on top; a few yards away is a polished wooden coffee table with a sofa behind it. There's a bookshelf nearby, and a door leading to a bathroom, and to my right is a kitchen with two chairs and a table in the middle of it.

"Are all apartments the same?" I ask.

"It depends in what part of the compound you live in and how many live there," answers Eric. "For people who live alone, they are given studio apartments. Or sometimes initiates bunk together after initiation. Sometimes the Dauntless-born return to live with their families."

"Does every leader live in the Pire?" I ask.

"Max's apartment is near the exit to the train tracks. When he was promoted to leadership, they offered him to move but he refused the offer. I have been in his apartment once and it's a pigsty. Care for a muffin? I hope that dinner hasn't filled you up."

"No," I say, taking the lemon poppy seed muffin. "You still remember that I favor the lemon poppy seed."

"A brother should know these things."

We sit across each other as I eat my muffin.

"How has it been in the world of Meg Matheson?" he asks after I pop in the last of the muffin in my mouth.

"Nothing too eventful," I answer. "Mainly did usually mundane Erudite oriented activities, aside from learning hand to hand combat."

"Interesting. Especially for someone who tested for Amity," Eric replies.

The answer catches me off guard. "_What_?"

"We receive the initiate roster after the Choosing Ceremony. The initiate instructors get them first before sending them to the leader involved in their training. Listed is their faction of origin, what they tested for, and the faction they chose. You are among the three Dauntless initiates who tested for Amity."

"That's somewhat intrusive," I say, not thinking what else to say.

He lifts a shoulder. "Sometimes those who administered the aptitude test log in the wrong information. The bizarre part is that it was Tori who administered your test and I doubt she makes mistakes. I can't really see you in Amity of all places."

He knows or at least suspects that I'm Divergent. I shrug it off. I doubt he would turn me in anyway.

"I don't think I'm suited for Amity either," I answer before changing the subject. "Are you aware that you and Four are perceived as jerks by the initiates?"

"When you train initiates, one has to be _realistic_," he answers.

"Like making Christina hang over the chasm for five minutes," I answer. "Somehow it shouldn't surprise me after seeing Four put a gun to Peter's head yesterday."

"The Stiff looked like I was stabbing someone."

"I would rather have a teacher who's a complete jackass then someone who tells me things I only want to hear. The person is a jerk, but they're realistic."

"I wish that the rest of the transfers thought like you."


	6. Chapter Five

The next morning, I woke up five minutes before the alarm rang and I showered and dressed just as Tris came in. She looked slightly better than yesterday. From what I heard, I broke her nose during our fight yesterday. Her nose is bandaged and her lip is healing over after I busted it open.

"Morning," she says timidly.

"Sorry about yesterday," I say.

"It's not your fault," she says. "It could have been worse. I'm glad I was paired against you instead of Peter."

Especially after what he did to Myra. She's still in the infirmary. From what I heard he broke two of her ribs and a nose.

Tris and I leave the bathroom and passing by her bed to my own, I see that someone has written the word _Stiff _across her bedspread in red spray paint. A few beds away, Peter is fluffing his pillow, whistling as he does so.

If someone acts innocent like that, you know that they have done something.

Peter turns to her and smiles. "Nice decorations."

I take that as a confirmation that he _did _vandalize her bed.

"Did I do something to you that I'm unaware of?" she demands, as she grabs the corner of the marked sheet and yanks it away from the mattress. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we are in the same faction now."

"I don't know what you're referring to," he says to her lightly before he glances at her. "And you and I will _never_ be in the same faction."

Tris scowls at him, her face turning red. If that were me he have spoken to, I would have punched him so hard that he wouldn't have seen it coming. Hasn't Peter heard of the phrase _Beware of the nice ones_?

Al walks in, and he and I help Tris strip the bedding with her. Al carries the stack of sheets to the trash can and together the three of us walk towards the training room.

"Ignore him," Al says. "He's an idiot, and if you don't get angry, he'll stop eventually."

"Yeah," she says, touching her cheek. "Did you talk to Will? After…you know?"

"Yeah. He's fine. He isn't angry." Al sighs. "Now I'll always be remembered as the first guy who knocked someone out cold."

"There are worse ways to be remembered. At least they won't antagonize you," Tris assures him.

"You don't want people treating you like a doormat, Al," I say, agreeing with her.

"There are better ways to be remembered too." He nudges Tris's elbow, smiling at her. "First jumper."

She smiles before it slightly falters. "One of you had to get knocked out, you know. If it hadn't been him, it would have been you."

"Still, I don't want to do it again." Al shakes his head, too many times, too fast. He sniffs. "I really don't."

"But you have to," I say as we reach the door to the training room. "Otherwise you'll become a doormat."

Tris looks at him with comprehension, like she knows he doesn't belong here. Amity suits him.

When we walk in, I look at the chalkboard:

Edward .vs. Molly

Peter .vs. Tris

Al .vs. Drew

Meg .vs. Myra

Christina .vs. Will

I look at Tris, and I see that she is staring at her name. She looks dumbstruck and horror struck. Who wouldn't be after how he beat Myra yesterday?

"Oh no," says Christina, who shuffles in behind us. The aftermath of her fight with Molly is visible, since her face is bruised and she's trying not to limp. She takes one look at the board and crumples the muffin wrapper she is holding into her fist. She turns to Tris and says to her, "Are they serious? They're really going to make you fight him?"

Christina shoots Four a look of pure venom. Like he is the one responsible. Four and my brother are standing a few feet from each other, talking quietly but it looks more like professional conversation than anything else.

"Maybe you can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious," Al suggests to her. "No one would blame you."

Really? Because doing that would lower someone's ranking to where they'll get cut.

"Yeah. Maybe," she says.

The first fight between Molly and Edward doesn't last long. Edward catches her off guard and he's too fast for her and in the end he's victorious.

"Next up – Peter and Tris!" my brother announces.

Tris takes a deep breath before ascending the platform. When she meets up with Peter, he looks at her like she is easy game. The smile he gives her is predatory.

"You okay there, Stiff?" he says to her. "You look like you might cry. I might go easy on you if you cry."

Mom taught me and my siblings that we shouldn't taunt someone or underestimate them, for it only fuels their eagerness to succeed at something. That we shouldn't bring them down.

"Usually, the nicer someone is, if provoked, they'll be far more explosive, and they'll do things they wouldn't usually do," she said a few times.

I look at Four to see him look disgusted like he swallowed vomit. Beside him is my brother who's tapping his foot in a fast pace.

Both Peter and Tris position themselves, only that Peter looks like he might lunge for the kill. From the look on Four's face, he obviously didn't match them up. Perhaps my brother should have paired me against Peter instead. I know a few tactics to take him by surprise.

"Come on, Stiff," he says to her. "Just one little tear. Maybe some begging."

Really? He's basically provoking her.

She aims her foot to his side, only for him to grab it and yank it forward, knocking her off-balance. Her back hits the floor, and she pulls her foot free, scrambling to her feet.

"Stop playing with her," snaps Eric. "I don't have all day."

Peter punches her in the jaw and she stumbles backwards before he kicks her in the gut, causing her to fall. Before she could get on her feet, he grabs her hair and packs a punch to her nose. As if I didn't break it yesterday. She tries slapping him off, only for him to punch her in the ribs.

He shoves her and Tris, her nose heavily bleeding, drags herself to her feet. She looks clearly dazed as Peter hits her from the side again. She punches his arm and he smacks her ear with his palm, laughing under his breath.

Four leaves the room, clearly disgusted. I could see why. Peter is treating Tris as if she's nothing but a punching bag.

Tris, barely conscious, falls on her stomach as Peter continues to kick her in the ribs, inciting a shriek from Christina and finally, Eric steps forward and shouts, "Enough!"

Peter steps aside, looking crestfallen as Christina and Will go and both take an out cold Tris from the room.

"Next up – Al and Drew!" announces Eric.

Al takes a deep breath as he meets Drew in the platform. Unfortunately, Al is doing what he suggested to Tris. After a couple punches, Al feigns unconsciousness. My older brother shakes his head in disappointment before calling off the fight and declaring Drew as the winner.

Then, it's my turn with Myra. She looks nervous, like she knows her odds of winning aren't pleasant. She manages to dodge a few punches but I catch her off guard after hitting her in the jaw and kicking her in the stomach, rendering her halfway conscious.

I take her to the infirmary just when the fight between Will and Christina begins.

* * *

After lunch, those that didn't sustain injuries were allowed to watch the Dauntless-born fight. I sit against the wall with Edward and Will as we see Lauren write down the names of the Dauntless-born:

Marlene .vs. Jackson

Aiden .vs. Chelsea

Lynn .vs Rita

Gabe .vs. Uriah

Felix .vs. Deirdre

"Which one is going to win?" Will asks.

"One has to see how they fight first," I point out.

The Dauntless-born enter the training room. Half of them look discontented to see the transfers while the other half wave at us, Aiden and Uriah among them.

The Dauntless-born stand a few feet away from the transfers, as Marlene and a boy with a green Mohawk step up to the platform.

"What is the point of watching this?" asks Will out loud to no one in particular.

Four doesn't answer and proceeds to talk to Lauren.

It's my brother that answers that question. "Hopefully you'll learn from them. They've been training for years for this. That is, if they qualify."

I rivet my attention to the fighting pair. The boy, Jackson, manages to place a few good punches but Marlene easily gains the upper hand that it's no surprise that she wins.

Then it's Aiden's turn. His opponent a meek, looking brunette Dauntless girl. Few of the Dauntless girls with the exception of Marlene and Lynn shout his name, like they have a crush on him. Really, it's annoying.

If he weren't Dauntless-born, I would have assumed he was Erudite-born, but being in Dauntless since he was born, he obviously learned the moves somewhere. When you live in a faction, it must be easy for some to learn how to pass initiation.

He takes her down after a couple of well-placed punches.

Lynn is able to beat Rita in four minutes. I realize how glad I know that the Dauntless-born and the transfer initiates are trained separately for stage one otherwise she would kill me.

After the last few fights, the Dauntless-born leave with Lauren and Eric has our attention.

"Tomorrow you are to head to the tracks at eight fifteen. Four will take you to the fence to discuss Dauntless job opportunities. Afterwards, is gunfire practice. Pass this information on to those who missed it."

* * *

Since Will, Christina, and Al are visiting Tris, I decide not to, mainly because I doubt it would be good for her health after being beaten into a pulp. I purchase a thigh length leather jacket, tight pants, and a red tank top. Afterwards, I go on the roof of the Pire with Aiden, Uriah, Marlene, Lynn, and Gabe, sitting down as we drink fizzy drinks and eat chocolate cake.

"I can't believe that your brother made the transfers watch us this afternoon," Lynn tells me. "How embarrassing."

"He said that we could learn a few things," I say.

"I wish they stop. They have been doing that every year: having transfers watch the Dauntless-born spar."

"I thought there were ten of you," says Marlene.

"Half were in the infirmary," I point out.

Marlene, Uriah, Gabe, and Lynn begin having a four way conversation, leaving me and Aiden.

"How's day four in Dauntless?" he asks.

"It's different," I answer. "Good thing I have a older brother who's a faction member here."

"The transition is easier if you have family that transferred here before you," he answers thoughtfully. "When you don't know someone, it's kind of hard."

I understand what he means. I think of Tris, whose brother chose Erudite. I'm sure he made friends in Erudite, though I'm sure he misses his family. On Visiting Day, dad will most likely give the same speech he does every year to the transfers: "When you enter your faction, you have to leave your old family behind, but you'll acquire new family in the meantime."

"Do you have a sibling in Dauntless?" I ask him.

"An older brother. He works the night shift in the control room," answers Aiden.

Uriah tries to capture our attention, regaling us with a humorous story. However, when I look down, I see a familiar, black-topped silver car pull up. We're high up, but I manage to see that the figures below greeting the individual are Eric and Max before I see Jeanine Matthews exit the car before another Erudite woman.

I'm not the only one that notices.

"What's your former faction leader doing here, Meg?" asks Aiden.

"Probably some interfaction business," says Lynn. "Could be talking about stage two, since Erudite invents the serums."

"Could be," I say, before the hatch to the roof opens.

"Hey, curfew for the initiates is in twenty minutes!" I hear someone shout. "You might want to hustle or Eric would not be too pleased."

"Way to ruin the fun, Zeke," Uriah says. The six of us gather our paper plates and empty fizzy drink bottles before descending down into the hatch.

The Dauntless-born descend down the lower floors but when I get to the tenth floor, I thought I hear voices in a room labeled _Max Franklin's office_.

"Remember that there are two people you need to keep an eye on," I hear Jeanine say to someone. "Behavioral trends unbecoming of this faction are something you should look for."

"The Stiff is most likely to do something idiotic," I hear my brother reply. "Technically she's not Erudite."

"I see why you would want to protect your sister, Eric," Jeanine answers. "When a younger sibling enters the same faction as you, that's when 'faction before blood' becomes complicated. I understand why. All I need is her Divergence to be confirmed. If she weren't your sister, I wouldn't offer the same immunity but with strings attached, like with you."

_Of what?_

"We have no proof yet that Meg's one. Her aptitude test could have been just a fluke. Besides, most of the Divergent originate from Abnegation."

"True, but the problem is that her test administrator originated from Erudite. Yes, you'll find Divergents more in Abnegation but they can originate from other factions."

Eavesdropping is too dangerous. Also, an initiate shouldn't hear these things. I proceed to go down the stairs and when I get to the eighth floor, Four stops in front of me, his arms folded.

"What do you want, Four?" I demand, sounding more hostile then I intended.

"You sound just like Eric," he replies, sounding amused. "That hostility towards me is probably genetic."

"But I don't hate you," I say.

"That's relief," he says before he turns austere. "Come with me."

He opens the door I follow him into a room with screens on walls and computer monitors. Must be the control room. No one is here but us two.

"I thought I only had one transfer to watch in case she makes stupid decisions. Now I got two," he says.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand belligerently.

"There are times where using that Erudite curiosity is dangerous."

"We were raised to be that way, Four," I argue. "Force of habit."

"Well, that's dangerous if you eavesdrop by Max's office," he says.

"Why you…" I start.

"What? Jackass? Jerk? I have been called these things during initiation by two initiates last year," he says. "Two initiates who failed to see the difference between me and your brother."

"I was going for intrusive prat," I clarify.

He relaxes slightly. "Intrusive prat? What's with the Erudite transfers and long nicknames?"

"Initiate curfew is in a few minutes and you're really pushing it, Four," I say.

"What's going on here?" I hear Eric demand as he enters the room. "She's not supposed to be here."

"You're not going to bend the rules for your young sister?" Four demands, tensing up like pulled wire.

"I don't play favorites, Four," my brother sneers. "Now why did you pull her in here for?"

"I saw her standing outside Max's office," says Four.

Eric turns to me. "Did you hear anything you weren't supposed to hear?"

"No, just about serums for stage two," I say, trying to look and sound casual. Even the Erudite can tell if someone is lying. It's not just for the Candor.

"Okay," says Eric, looking like he bought my lie. "Go back to your dormitory before it hits curfew."

I leave the control room and I thought I hear someone slam another against the wall and I hear my brother say, "Now, you better watch yourself, _Eaton_. You know it's forbidden to eavesdrop on confidential matters."

Eaton? Then it occurs to me: Eaton is the surname of Marcus and his son Tobias, who transferred here two years ago.

"I didn't hear anything," I hear Four say in response.

"Then why did you go after my sister for eavesdropping?"

I decide to descend into the Pit and walk straight towards the dormitory. If I hear too much, it will increase my chances of getting caught.


	7. Chapter Six

I wake up before everyone else. After I clean up, I put on my black clothes before going to the cafeteria. Since it's morning, there isn't much people here but fortunately, they are serving food.

When I enter the breakfast line, my brother stands behind me, holding a tray.

"How did you sleep?" he asks.

"Good," I say, putting a bowl of cereal on my tray. We move along the line in silence. On the plate I have to the side of my tray, I put toast and a lemon poppy seed muffin on it. at the end of the line, I grab a bottle of orange juice and a carton of milk for my cereal.

We both sit across from each other at an empty table.

"Did you and Four emerge from that fight unscathed light night?" I ask him as I poured the milk in my cereal.

"No one was punched, but I was merely putting him in his place," he answered, spreading butter on his toast.

"Putting him in his place," I repeat.

"He has been on thin ice lately," answers Eric. "He's been eavesdropping on private meetings from the control room. Challenging the way the initiation process is. It's like he's asking himself to be expelled from his position."

"Why is he eavesdropping on private meetings?" I ask.

"During our initiation, we had an instructor named Amar," says Eric. "They were friends after initiation. Three months before last years' initiation, someone found him lying by the railroad tracks. Apparently he jumped."

"And Four blamed you?" I deduce.

He nodded. "All because of a look I gave him just days before his death. Since then, he's been trying to connect me to some conspiracy. He's becoming paranoid."

I think of what I overheard from Eric and Jeanine last night. About hunting down Divergents, me and Tris especially.

"Maybe he's not paranoid," I say.

Eric leans towards me, looking stern. "I would advise not to linger by closed doors. Curiosity isn't necessarily harmful but there are times where we shouldn't apply it."

He didn't buy my story of not hearing anything important. Then again, he's not stupid.

"Is that a threat?" I demand. I regret that question afterwards. He wouldn't threaten me, or so I thought.

He looks at me like I'm an idiot for thinking that. "It's a warning. You wouldn't want the wrong people to catch you. Theoretically speaking, I would rather have it be me that would catch you eavesdropping, that way the repercussions are painless."

* * *

Five minutes before the appointed time, I meet the others at the tracks. Tris and Christina are absent and they show up just when the train arrives, its horn blaring.

"What took you so long?" Will shouts at them over the horn.

"Stumpy Legs over here turned into an old lady overnight," says Christina.

"Oh, shut up," Tris replies. Due to Peter's beat down of her yesterday, the injuries that she sustained from our fight popped out.

Four stands at the front of the group of initiates, so close to the train that if he shifted even an inch forward, the train would take his face with it. He steps back to allow us to jump on. I run with the train a few steps, grab the handle and hoist myself in without difficulty.

"Show off," Peter mutters.

I just roll my eyes and stand by the door. Four jumps on like there's no weight to him. Will hoists himself in, landing on his stomach. Only Tris hasn't jumped on the train. Al and I outstretch our hands as Tris grabs the handle before taking both our hands and we pull her in.

"Feeling okay there?" Peter says, giving her a look of mock sympathy. "Or are you a little…_Stiff_?"

He and his friends laugh at his joke. I don't advocate bullying but his vocabulary of insults is limited.

"We are all awed by your incredible wit," says Will with obvious sarcasm.

"Really? _Stiff_? Your puns and insults are grossly limited," I say. "Unfortunately your mouth can't burn if you come up with more."

"Yeah, are you sure you don't belong with the Erudite, Peter?" Christina adds. "I hear they don't object to sissies."

"No, he's too dense for Erudite. He probably wouldn't pass the IQ test," I say. "He doesn't qualify as a _Nose_."

'Nose' is a slang for the Erudite, just like 'Stiff' is for the Abnegation. Christina and even Will laugh in reaction to what I said.

Four, standing in the doorway, speaks before Peter can retort. "Am I going to have to listen to your bickering all the way to the fence?"

Everyone gets quiet, and Four turns his back to the car's opening.

"What do you think is out there?" Tris asks "I mean, beyond the fence?"

"A bunch of farms, I guess," Christina answers.

"Yeah, but I mean…past the farms. What are we guarding the city from?"

"Monsters!"

Tris rolls her eyes.

"We didn't even have guards near the fence until five years ago," Will points out. "Don't you remember when Dauntless police used to patrol the factionless sector?"

"Yes," says Tris.

Back in Erudite, we would speculate what was beyond the Amity farms. Patrick Lovelace thought that we were the only ones left, that all that remained was ruins of a civilization. Eric and I thought that there were other faction-based, fenced-in communities out there. That there was a war and as an result, cities fenced themselves in, creating communities where it was divided in factions, and due to loss of communication, each city thought that they were the only ones. Our parents think that it's illogical for us to be the last ones left.

As for the Dauntless patrolling the factionless sector, my former faction elected that the practice must not cease. My father was one of those that lobbied to keep the Dauntless in the factionless sector, saying that while they might pose no threat, they are capable of having conflict with each other, which is why they need policing. The Abnegation councilman argued to remove the Dauntless from the factionless sector. Since only the Abnegation has say in the government, the Dauntless were removed from the factionless sector and as a result, it's one of the many things that my old faction gives as evidence of Abnegation's incompetence.

"Oh, right," Will says. "I bet you saw them all the time."

"Why do you say that?" Tris asks a little sharply.

"Because you had to pass through the factionless sector to get to school, right?"

"What did you do, memorize the map of the city for fun?" asks Christina.

"Yes," answers Will, looking puzzled. "Didn't you?"

The train's breaks squeal, and we all lurch forward as the car slows. Peter bumps into me from behind.

"Watch it," he says.

"Someone is losing their balance this morning," I say to him placidly before turning away.

The dilapidated buildings are gone, replaced by yellow fields and train tracks. The train stops under an awning. I jump from the train.

In front of me is a concrete fence with layers of steel coil on top, obscuring the view of the outside. Around our side of the fence, Dauntless members are milling around with guns.

"Follow me," says Four. I stand next to Al and I see Drew stick out his foot to trip Tris. I trip him as I walk past him. I keep on walking, though I hear Christina and Peter laugh at Drew.

"Make sure you don't swallow the grass!" I hear Peter leer at Drew.

Four leads us toward the gate, which is as wide as a house and opens up to the cracked road that leads to the city.

"If you don't rank in the top five at the end of initiation, you will probably end up here," says Four as he reaches the gate. "Once you are a fence guard, there is some potential for advancement, but not much. You may be able to go on patrols beyond Amity's farms, but –"

"Patrols for what purpose?" asks Will.

Four lifts a shoulder. "I suppose you'll discover that if you find yourself among then. As I was saying. For the most part, those who guard the fence when they are young continue to guard the fence. If it comforts you, some of them insist that it isn't as bad as it seems."

"What rank were you?" Peter asks Four.

He looks levelly at Peter and says, "I was first."

If Four was first, Eric was most likely second, because from what I heard, if you do exceptionally well in initiation, you'll be offered a leadership role. If the first choice refuses the offer, the second choice gets the offer.

"And you chose to do _this_?" Peter's eyes are wide with wonder. "Why didn't you get an government job?"

"I didn't want one," Four says flatly. Tris looks at him skeptically. Most likely she is thinking what he said about working in the control room, surrounded by computers. Sure, he looks tough, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be behind the computer screen.

We stop next to the gate. A few Dauntless guards glance in our direction but not many. They are too preoccupied pulling the doors open to admit a truck.

The man driving the truck wears a hat, a beard, and a smile. He stops just inside the gate and gets out. The back of the truck is open, and a few other Amity – initiates by the looks of it – sit among the stacks of crates.

"Beatrice?" an Amity boy asks.

A boy with curly blond hair stands at the back of the truck. I didn't have classes with him this year before Choosing Day, but I can place him since I had classes with him last school year. All the Abnegation are reserved, not wanting to bring attention to themselves and Robert Black was no exception. He often asked me for help on certain assignments, the reason being that I was more approachable then the others of my former faction. The others took it as him having a crush on me. I doubt it, but it's not impossible for a dependent to have a crush on another dependent from another faction.

Robert hops from the truck and approaches Tris. He hesitates before he folds her into his arms. She stiffens and doesn't return the hug.

"Beatrice, what happened to you?" he asks her. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothing?" she says. "Just training. Nothing."

"Beatrice?" Molly demands. She folds her arms and laughs. "Is that your real name, Stiff?"

Tris glances at her. "What did you _think _Tris was short for?"

"I don't know …weakling?" She touches her chin, like she's thinking.

"Someone took the idiot pill this morning," I say, before turning to Molly. "There are people who are emotionally strong but take time to physically adapt to their new environment. The _real _weaklings are those who act tough but who are cowards at heart."

Molly's smirk wipes from her face in an instant. Like I wiped it off her face. Peter and Drew don't come to her defense, which means that Drew and Molly are just his lackeys and muscles.

Tris has a two minute conversation with Robert before he jumps back into the truck before she talks to Four.

We all here the train horn and we gather at the awning to wait for the train.

"Thanks for standing up for me," I hear Tris say to me.

I turn to face her. "If this makes you feel better, Molly and Drew are only physically ready. They seem too dense to ready themselves for stage two. You are emotionally stronger than they are."

"Are you sure that Eric is your brother?" Tris asks me incredulously.

I don't doubt that Eric has made a good impression, especially when he made Christina hang over the chasm for five minutes. However, Tris doesn't know him as well.

"It takes time to know someone," I say. "It's not logical to read someone thoroughly after three days."

Tris looks incredulous but doesn't say anything when the train arrives.

* * *

After lunch, all of us pile into the original training room where we first practiced with the guns. In the room are my brother and Four, both leaning against the wall.

"I have overseen the Dauntless-born this morning during their target practice," announces Eric as he steps forward. "Hopefully most of you remember how to use a firearm properly. If that piece of information was leaked from your brain, well, too bad. Firearms are one of the things to learn for self-defense."

One of the things. I could easily guess the other method: knives. If you are away from a gun, you have to have a knife around.

The ten of us go to our stations, with me standing between Al and Tris. A few yards away, I hear Peter taunting Drew for being "tripped by a girl." Hopefully that will keep Peter occupied for a while.

During our first gun practice, they gave us hand guns. Today, we are given assault rifles. Like with the guns, Four does a demonstration before leaving us to our own devices. It doesn't take long for me to hold the rifle right and my bullets hit the target. Beside me, Al is having a hard time holding the rifle right.

It doesn't help that my brother notices.

"Is it hard for you to hold the rifle right?" demands my brother.

Al doesn't say anything and the bullet misses the target.

"Watch Meg for a moment," says Eric. "Watch how she's holding the rifle."

The shoot and the bullet hits the target.

"Hopefully you're smart enough to watch the other initiates," says Eric before walking off.

Al tries holding the rifle the way I do, though his bullets haven't quite hit the target. Next to me, Tris has already had a few bullets hit the target.


	8. Chapter Seven

On the third day of combat training, my opponent was Edward, and we were the first to fight. Being both from Erudite and since we studied self-defense together, our fight lasts for twelve minutes. He almost lost to me but gave me a punch in the gut that knocked the wind out of me.

That night, I have been asleep for an few hours when I hear the door to the dormitory burst open and I sit up. People stream into the room, holding flashlights. I immediately get up and began changing my clothes.

"Everybody up!" I hear Eric roar. Among the people in the room is Four. After a few minutes, Eric shouts, "Have you gone deaf, Stiff?"

Tris automatically slips from the covers while Christina, clad in a long, white t-shirt, folds her arms and stars at Eric.

"You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us by the tracks," says Eric. "We're going on another field trip."

I replaced by pajamas with black pants, my red tank top and my black jacket. I quickly shove my feet into my shoes and sprint, with Al beside me, to the train. Everyone in the Pit doesn't seem surprised by seeing us run through.

Thanks, Eric, for not telling us what was going to happen. I'm sure the Dauntless-born knew.

We make it to the tracks just behind the Dauntless-born initiates. Next to the tracks is a black pile. It's easy to make out the rifles. They look artificial up close. Next to the fake rifles is a pile of boxes, all saying "PAINTBALLS."

I hear Tris laugh.

"Everyone grab a gun!" shouts Eric.

We rush forward towards the pile, with me and Tris being the closest. I grabbed the first rifle I see and grab the holster. I strap the gun to my back before grabbing a box and shove a box into a pocket.

"Time estimate?" Eric asks Four.

Four checks his watch. "Any minute now. How long is it going to take you to memorize the train schedule?"

"Why should I, when you have to remind me of it?" says Eric, shoving Four's shoulder.

When the train arrives, Four is the first one to grab the handle. I run after Tris, and with no struggle, I hoist into the train.

"Show off," Peter mutters when he gets into the train car.

"Oh shut up, you hypocrite," I snap. "You're the one that shows off."

That shuts him up.

Once everyone is in, Four speaks up.

"We'll be dividing into two teams to play capture the flag. Each team will have an even mix of Dauntless-born initiates, and transfers. One team will get off first and find a place to hide their flag. Then the second team will get off and do the same." The car sways, and Four grabs the side of the doorway for balance. "This is Dauntless tradition, so I suggest you take it seriously."

"What do we get if we win?" someone shouts.

"Sounds like the kind of question someone not from Dauntless should ask," says Four, raising an eyebrow. "You get to win of course."

"Four and I will be your team captains," says Eric. He looks at Four. "Let's divide up the transfers first, shall we?"

Tris rests her head against the wall of the car, dread on her features.

"You go first?" Four says.

Eric shrugs and looks between Peter, Edward, and I. "Edward."

Four looks around the car. "I want the Stiff."

A faint undercurrent of laughter fills the car and Tris's cheeks go red.

"Got something to prove?" asks my brother, smirking. "Or are you just picking the weak ones so that if you lose, you'll have someone to blame on it?"

I bite my lip. Eric didn't have to stoop that low.

Four shrugs. "Something like that." After a pause, he says, "Your turn."

"Peter."

"Christina."

"Molly."

"Meg."

That's surprising. I didn't expect Four to choose me for his team. I thought that he wouldn't have the sister of Eric on his team.

"Al," says Eric, looking irritated and flustered.

"Will," says Four, biting his thumb.

"Myra."

"That means I get Drew," says Four. "Time for the Dauntless-born. You take your pick first, Eric."

"Lynn."

"Uriah," says Four, looking peeved.

"Gabe."

"Marlene."

"Chelsea."

"Aiden."

"Jackson."

"Deirdre."

"Rita."

"Felix," says Four.

After they finish choosing teams, Eric smirks at Four. "Your team can get off second."

"Don't do me any favors," Four replies. He smiles a little. "You know I don't need them to win."

"Well, some of them better have brains. If not, I wouldn't be surprised if you lost," says Eric. "Take your team and get off first, then."

We all stand up. Al gives me and Tris a forlorn look. I smile, hoping that it would reassure him. I am thinking of offering to swap teams, so I could be on my brother's team and Al would be on Four's team, but that means being in the same team as Peter and Molly.

The train is about to dip to the ground. We all jump out of the car after Four, and I land on my feet.

Marlene touches Four shoulder and asks, "When your team won, where did you put the flag?"

"Telling you wouldn't really be in the spirit of the exercise, Marlene," he says coolly.

"Come on, Four," she whines. He brushes her hand off his arm.

"Navy Pier," answers Uriah. "My brother was on the winning team. They kept the flag at the carousel."

"Let's go there, then," suggests Will.

No one objects, so we walk east, toward the marsh that was once a lake.

"We're close to Erudite headquarters, right?" asks Christina, bumping me and Will's shoulders with her own.

"Yeah, its south of here," he says. He looks over his shoulder and I turn to see the lights from a distance. I am less than a mile away from my parents and twin siblings. When we were young, mother would read to us before bedtime, common Erudite practice, until we reached eleven. Right now the twins are probably to bed.

But right now, I can't think of my old faction.

We cross the bridge to the abandoned part of the city. Since its past midnight and there is no moon in sight – I guess they picked this time of night on purpose, so we wouldn't see our opponents – It's almost pitch black.

Marlene and Aiden both pull out flashlights and shine them at the street ahead of us.

"Scared of the dark, Mar?" Uriah teases.

"If you want to step on broken glass, Uriah, be my guest," she snaps. But she turns her flashlight off anyway while Aiden keeps his on.

The buildings end just before the marsh. A strip of land juts out into the marsh, and rising from it is a giant white wheel with dozens of red passenger cars dangling at regular intervals. The Ferris wheel.

"Think about it. People used to ride that thing. For _fun_," says Will, shaking his head.

"They must have been Dauntless," Tris says.

"Yeah, but a lame version of Dauntless." Christina laughs. "A Dauntless Ferris wheel wouldn't have cars. You would just hang on tight with your hands, and good luck to you."

We walk down the side of the pier. All the buildings on my right are empty, their signs torn down and their windows closed.

"Dare you jump into the marsh," says Christina to Will.

"You first."

We reach the carousel. Some of the horses are scratched and weathered, their tails broken off or their saddles chipped. Four takes the flag out of his pocket. It's luminous, changing from green to orange to yellow.

"In ten minutes, the other team will pick their location," he says. "I suggest you take this time to formulate a strategy. We may not be Erudite, but mental preparedness is one aspect of your Dauntless training. Arguably, it is the most important aspect."

Everyone begins arguing what to do. Really? If they keep doing that, Eric might as well win.

I decide to get away from the bickering and climb onto one of the battered horses on the carousel.

"If they keep that up, we are going to lose," Aiden says as he joins me at the carousel.

"Seems like the others don't care for teamwork," I say.

I look at the moonless sky, the pale clouds covering the sky. In Erudite, I had a book on constellations and there was a telescope in the family office for us to look through it.

We sit silently for a few minutes until I thought I see the Ferris wheel start to move. Someone must be that stupid to draw attention. It's not long before I see two figures emerge from the Ferris wheel.

"Let's see if they thought of anything," says Aiden, hopping from his horse, with me following.

The group stops bickering just when Tris and Four approach.

"While the rest of you were twiddling your thumbs, Tris climbed the Ferris wheel to look for the other team," says Four.

"What do we do now?" Aiden asks with a yawn.

Four looks at Tris, who shrugs until it looks like a light bulb lit up.

"Split in half," she says. "Five of us go to the right side of the pier. The other team is in the park at the end of the pier, so the group of four will charge as the group of three sneaks behind the other team to get the flag."

I feel my jaw drop. That thinking is…Erudite. Where did she get intelligence like that?

"Sounds good," says one of the Dauntless-born, clapping her hands together. "Let's get this night over with, shall we?"

Aiden, Uriah, Christina, and I join Tris in the group going to the right. The five of us run, with me slightly in the lead, almost at level with Christina. When we reach the end of the pier, I grab my gun, holding it securely.

Then I hear a chorus of yells and hear puffs of air, paintballs being fired. I don't pay attention to the paintballs hitting my hair and body. Then I see it, the flag hanging from a branch.

Christina, Tris, and I reach for it. Without hesitation I snatch the flag from the branch.

I climb up the tree, pull out the handle and when I'm at the top branch, I show myself and wave the flag, the winning team whooping and cheering. Christina has her arms folded but smiles as she shakes her head.

The winning team gathers around the tree, cheering with infectious victory as I wave the flag higher.

I see Four place his hand on Tris's shoulder and he says something that makes her smile.

* * *

We returned around three in the morning but I was the first to enter the training room that morning. Four was setting up targets while my brother was in the process of arranging knives on the table.

Neither of them is talking to each other.

"Target practice?" I ask.

"Yes," says Four as he sets up the last target. "In my opinion it doesn't have a place in initiation, since it teaches the initiates to be show-offs."

"Shut up, Four," my brother snaps at him before turning to me. "What is your opinion about the knife throwing?"

"It might be useful because there might be a time where we are in no reach of a gun and we just have a knife lying around when facing danger," I answer.

"See, at least she sees a point in it," he tells Four.

Four just shrugs but doesn't look too convinced.

"Sore that your team lost last night?" I ask my brother.

"With you capturing the flag, well I'm not quite as sore as I would have been," answers Eric. "I didn't like losing to Four but what matters is that you captured the flag."

Most likely because Eric knew that by being a total sore loser about it would dampen the victory I felt when I caught the flag. Is that why Four selected me for his team? Because it would make sense, that me being in Four's team, the winning team, he wouldn't be as upset about it as he originally would.

But I could tell that something else most likely put a damper on my brother.

When the rest of the transfer initiates, Eric stands in the middle of the room, rigid like pulled wire. Tris takes one look at him looking crestfallen before staring at the table.

"Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one," says Eric. "You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll learn how to aim. Everyone pick up three knives. And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique."

At first, I'm the only one that moves and I pick up my last knife when Eric shouts, "Well, at least one of you is listening. The rest of you, now!"

Everyone else scrambles to get daggers.

When everyone collected their knives, everyone watches Four. I notice that when he throws, his body is rigid and he matches his throws with each intake of breath.

"Line up!" Eric orders.

The transfers line up and I stand between Al and Peter. I test the knives with my hands, adjusting my grip and making my posture tight and rigid before throwing. My knife doesn't quite hit the target but rather hits the edge of it.

"I think the Stiff's taken too many hits in the head!" I hear Peter shout.

I look to see Tris moving the knife around, pretending to throw it. More likely she's trying to practice throwing it.

"Hey, Stiff! Remember what a _knife_ is?" he leers.

"Or maybe you just don't know the difference between going mad or practicing knife throws," I tell him.

I throw my knife, this time it hits the center of my target. Another knife hits a target with a thud.

"Hey, Peter! Remember what a _target _is?" says Tris.

I see that Peter has missed his target. Yep, he's inner coward alright. Just hope he learns that in stage two.

A half hour later, Al, who is at my other side, is the only initiate who hasn't hit the target yet. His arm is too loose. His knives clatter to the floor, or bounce up the wall. While the rest of us approach our targets to collect our weapons, he hunts the floor for his.

I hoped that by me standing next to him, it would help him. He should have paid attention to Four's demonstration.

The next time Al tries and misses, Eric marches towards us, faces Al, and says, "How slow _are _you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move your target closer to you?"

Al's face turns red. He throws another knife, and this one sails a few feet to the right of the target. It spins and hits the floor.

"What was that, initiate?" says my brother quietly, leaning closer to Al.

I avert my eyes. This isn't going to go down well.

"It – it slipped," says Al.

"Well, I think you should go get it," Eric says. He scans the other initiates' faces – everyone has stopped throwing knives – and says, "Did I tell you to stop?"

The knives hit their targets again. What is cringe worthy is that my brother looks like he might explode any moment. We have seen him angry before but not like this. The look in his eyes is almost rabid.

"Go get it?" Al's eyes are wide. "But everyone's still throwing."

_Al, get the knife. Just listen to him and get the knife_

"And?"

"And I don't want to get hit."

"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you," says Eric, his smile not reaching his eyes, which are cruel. "Go get your knife."

"No," he says.

_Al, just get the knife_. I know that's dangerous but he's better off if he listened.

"Why not?" Eric's eyes fix on Al's face. "Are you afraid?"

"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife?" says Al. "Yes I am!"

If Al just said 'no', my brother would have taken the request to account but Al's honesty is going to land him in hot water.

"Everybody stop!" Eric shouts.

The knives stop, and so does all conversation. I put the other two knives in my pocket.

"Clear out of the ring." Eric looks at Al. "All except you."

What is on my brother's mind? Seriously, what's on his mind?

I follow the other initiates to the edge of the room and stand next to Tris. Seeing Al facing my brother's wrath is going to be a nauseous sight.

"Stand in front of that target," says Eric.

Al's big hands shake. He walks to a target free of knives.

"Hey, Four," Eric looks over his shoulder. "Give me a hand here, huh?"

Four scratches one of his eyebrows with a knife point and approaches Eric. He looks tired just as we are. He probably doesn't need this especially after we played capture the flag at midnight.

"You're going to stand there as he throws those knives," Eric says to Al, "until you learn not to flinch."

He can't be serious. This is crossing from jackass to sadistic.

"Is this really necessary?" asks Four, sounding bored and casual while his body suggests otherwise.

I bite my fingers in apprehension. Four is an initiate instructor and my brother is a faction leader and what Four is doing is challenging him.

They stare each other down until Eric says quietly, "I have the authority here, remember? Here, and everywhere else."

Color rushes to Four's face, though his expression does not change. His grip on the knives tightens and his knuckles turn white as he turns to face Al.

I think of doing something. Merely a diversion to distract them before Four could throw knives at Al, but before I could think of anything, I hear Tris shout, "Stop it!"

Everyone turns to look at her. Is she insane? But no one else is sticking up for Al, so someone has to.

"Any idiot can stand in front of a target," says Tris. "It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of _cowardice_."

She shouldn't have called him a coward. It wouldn't take much for Eric to turn on her either.

"Then it should be easy for you," Eric says to Tris. "If you're willing to take his place."

"There goes your pretty face," Peter hisses to her. "Oh, wait. You don't have one."

"Shut up, Peter!" I snap. "No one gives a damn to what you say! Just do us a favor and shove your fist down your throat."

Tris ignores us as she trades places with Al. Al stands beside me, looking nervous.

"If you flinch," Four says to her, slow and carefully, "Al takes your place. Understand?"

Tris nods.

Four throws the first knife. It is half a foot away from her.

"You about done, Stiff?" asks Four.

"No," she answers, looking straight at him.

"Eyes open, then."

Four throws the second knife. This one strikes the target just above her skull.

"Come on, Stiff," he says. "Let someone else stand there and take it."

Is this some sort of test on his part? Is he trying to see if she was brave enough to stand there? To see if she retained her Abnegation selflessness?

"Shut up, Four!" she yells.

To her, since her face is beet red in anger, she thinks that he is probably taunting her.

Four looks at her, a glint in his eyes before he throws the final knife. This one is close to her ear. Close enough that he must have nicked it.

"I would love to stay and see if the rest of you are as daring as she is," says Eric, his voice smooth, "but I think that's enough for today."

He squeezes her shoulder and smiles, something she doesn't return.

"I should keep my eye on you," Eric says to Tris.

The words send a chill down my spine. I remember the conversation between my brother and Jeanine a few nights ago. They think that both I and Tris are Divergent and that Jeanine wants my brother to confirm my Divergence.

We all leave the training room with the exception of Tris and Four.

* * *

When everyone else is at the Pit, I return to the training room. The knives are still strewn across the table and the targets still stand. I take a few knives and throw them at the target, each of them sticking to the board.

I must have been doing this for a hour or two because when after I throw my umpteenth knife, I hear the door open.

"You know you shouldn't be here after six," I hear my brother say before I turn to see him approach. "Shouldn't you be with your friends?"

"Care to explain about what happened earlier?" I asked him without thinking.

"I had to put Al in his place," he says. "It is not in the place of the initiate to challenge a faction leader."

"There are other ways to put an initiate in their place," I retort. "Not humiliating him after it was obvious that he couldn't throw the knives correctly."

"When I made Christina hang over the chasm for five minutes, that didn't surprise you, but this fazes you?" he demands.

"That's different," I argue. "Al and Christina are different people, besides, throwing knives at someone's head is more sadistic then making someone hang over the chasm."

"You do realize that you're crossing a line?" he demands. "I'm a faction leader. You're just an initiate who has been here for a week."

"What are you going to do?" I ask him defiantly. "Make me hang from the chasm in ten minutes? Throw knives at my –"

Before I know it, I'm knocked to the floor, my ears ringing and my nose throbbing. Something thick streams from my nose and I recover my vision soon enough because when I wipe my hand under my nose, I see blood.

I slowly stand up and look to see Eric, pale as a sheet, like he can't believe what he just did.

"Meg, I –" he begins.

I push past him, running from the room. I run down a couple of corridors before pressing my back against the wall and I slide down it. my nose is still bleeding and covers my fingers.

Eric hit me. My own brother hit his own sister.

"Are you okay?" I hear Four ask me before I look up at him. He looks at my nose and asks, "What happened?"

"I…I ran into a doorjamb," I lie.

I would never be Candor. I lie at times.

"Ah," he says, nodding. I could tell that he doesn't believe me. "Let's go get that fixed in the infirmary."

At the infirmary, they bandage my nose and give me something to subside the bleeding.

"You need anything else? Something to drink?" he asks as we walk through the compound.

"Something cold, please," I say.

We are in the other side of the Dauntless compound and this is hallway that looks like the doors lead to apartments. He unlocks an wooden door and opens it.

His apartment is slightly smaller than Eric's, only that it has stone walls and on his bed is a blue quilt. Painted on the walls are the words "Fear God Alone."

The concept of God is an often debated issue among the Erudite. Jeanine Matthews argues that if there were a God, why did He allow horrible things to happen in the past? Half of the faction agrees with her while the second group believes that there is a God. My parents are in the latter group. When I was eight, I asked mom if she believed that God existed.

"We have to have a higher power, Margaret, because how else could we exist?" she told me.

My parents are not religious people but they believe that a higher power exists. As for the theories about how the Earth was created, mom argues that some things are meant to be unanswered. The concept of God isn't just an Abnegation and Amity mentality.

I sit at the table in Four's kitchen and he hands me an glass of water.

"Can you tell me what really happened to your nose?" Four asks me as he sits across from me.

"Why should you know?" I ask defensively.

"So, I could better understand what happened," he answers.

I'm hesitant to tell him, because I barely know him besides from the fact that he threw knives at Tris this morning. But I lower my guard anyway. "Okay. Eric hit me."

Four's expression is unreadable but I could see that he is probably remembering something similar in his life. Perhaps he is Tobias Eaton. Eric called him by that surname a few days ago anyway.

"I'm not surprised that he would hit an initiate, but his own sister?" says Four, shaking his head. "That's the last thing I expect him to do. He is everything what Dauntless has become but I know he wouldn't cross that line."

"What do you mean my brother is everything that Dauntless has become?" I ask.

"I didn't necessarily mean that but he's wound up the initiates tight," says Four. "When I was an initiate – when your brother was an initiate – the initiates had unlimited potential to become members. Cuts were made when they released the final rankings. Fights ended when the opponent conceded. Before I was an initiate, fights were done with padding on the knuckles. When your brother stepped up as a Dauntless leader, he made the initiation process more competitive. That ten initiates be accepted at a time. Four initiates being cut at the end of stage one. That it is an honor and a privilege to be Dauntless. He wasn't involved as much in last years' initiation. He was only present during the first day of fighting and the knife throwing but since I stopped the fights before the injuries could get too severe, he is much more involved in the initiation process."

That's an Erudite mentality: that to be an Erudite, it is an honor and a privilege. Also, Jeanine raised the bar for the Erudite initiates. It used to be that they would accept initiates with IQs of ninety-five and above. Now, you have to have a triple digit IQ.

"Sounds like Erudite initiation," I say.

"I have no doubt that it's just as competitive as your brother made Dauntless initiation," says Four. "Are you angry at your brother for doing this to you?"

I think. Strangely I'm not. There is one thing I heard growing up. Something along the lines of _Things done in the heat of anger, are not from the heart_. That are actions are rash. I remember the look on Eric's face after he hit me. He didn't mean it. The regret was obvious on his face.

"I'm not angry at him," I say. "Should I be?"

"That's up to you," says Four.


	9. Chapter Eight

I wake up and shower before the other initiates wake up. After getting dressed, I wash my face repeatedly in the sink, allowing the water to splash against my face. I look at the mirror to see my reflection.

Visiting Day is tomorrow. Most likely father is not going to show up, since faction leaders don't have days off on Visiting Day. How will I explain my broken nose to mom and the twins? That Eric punched me?

"You look like hell," I hear Molly say and I see her emerging from the shower stall, dressed in black clothes though she's patting her eye with a towel.

"What makes you care?" I retort.

She shrugs. "Just making a observation. Did you bump into a wall last night?"

She sounds more Candor in her rudeness but then again, I'm not Tris.

"Something like that," I say.

Molly just rolls her eyes before going to the mirror a few feet from me.

I pass a groggy Peter as I leave the bathroom, intent on going to breakfast.

* * *

"Are you okay, Meg? What happened to your face?" Al asks me during breakfast.

"I'm okay, Al," I try to assure him.

"He's right," says Christina. "What happened to your nose?"

Lying to Christina is going to be a challenge, since she was Candor. I don't answer her question and I continue eating my cereal.

I scan the cafeteria and see my brother a few tables away across the room. He is determinedly not trying to make eye contact. He's probably trying to avoid looking at me or he is thinking of some sort of apology to say to me later.

He most likely would find it difficult. You can't take a punch to the nose. But with words it's the same way.

"Have you seen Tris?" asks Christina.

Al and Will shake their heads 'no'. I haven't seen her since this morning when I went to get changed.

"Hopefully Peter, Drew, or Molly didn't do anything to her," I say, eating the last of my cereal. "I'll check the dormitory to see if she's there."

I stand up from my seat and leave the cafeteria. Since almost everyone is at breakfast, the Pit isn't busy and I'm able to travel through the corridors to the transfer initiate's dormitory. It looks empty, vacant.

"Tris?" I call out.

No answer.

I venture into the bathroom and see her sitting against the wall, her legs folded up to her chest. She was wearing the dress that she got during our second night here.

"What happened, Tris?" I ask her with concern as I sit down next to her.

She looks at me and says, "I was leaving the bathroom when Peter, Drew, and Molly gained up on me…and Peter yanked the towel from my body. Nobody helped me. They just laughed."

I purse my lips. Sexual harassment is against the rules. I know why Peter did this: because she was Abnegation and the Abnegation are celibate until marriage thus keeping affection and intimacy behind closed doors.

"You should go to someone. The leaders," I encourage. "Especially Four."

"You think they would care?" asks Tris, eyes flashing with anger.

Unfortunately, I see her point. While Abnegation has most of their heat with the Erudite, Candor and Dauntless look down on the Abnegation as well. In Dauntless standards, she's seen as a weakling, someone who would most likely get cut. Too bad they can't see the connection between bravery and selflessness.

"Here in Dauntless, the only way to prove to them that I'm not weak is by beating one of them up until they can't fight back," says Tris.

That's the only way she can prove herself, unfortunately.

* * *

An hour before the last round of fights in stage one, I track down Four at the control room. He leaves the control room and we stand at the end of the hallway of the eighth floor.

"Peter yanked the towel from Tris this morning," I tell him flatly.

"So it's true then?" he asks.

"Don't tell me Peter bragged about sexually harassing Tris?" I ask.

"I heard fragments of it," says Four.

"So what are you going to do?" I ask.

"I'm planning his fall from grace," says Four.

* * *

The initiates gather in the training room as Four starts to write down the names.

"Hey, where have you been this morning?" Christina asks Tris when she walks in.

"I got held up," Tris tells her.

If Tris can't tell Christina what really happened, I have no faith that their friendship will wither down. Most likely we're clambering on each other to be Dauntless members.

Tris looks intently and eagerly at the board while Four writes down the names. When he's finished writing them down and backs away, we see what is says:

Will vs. Myra

Meg .vs. Drew

Al .vs. Christina

Peter .vs. Edward

Molly .vs. Tris

Tris looks pleased; I see Molly looking over at Tris, smirking, like Tris is easy game. She'll see who's laughing when she herself gets broken ribs and a broken nose.

My opponent is Drew, who's all muscle and no brains. He will be wrong if he treats the fight like a piece of cake.

Will and Myra basically just shuffle across the platform, missing a punch here and there. Four leans against the wall and yawns.

Then it's my turn with Drew. He makes the first move, by aiming at my nose. I block it and aim a fist at his unguarded face. He stumbles before recovering and aims a punch at my gut before I can react. I ignore the pain and punch him in the eye.

I duck the next punch, catching him off guard by flipping him. He tries hitting me in the face with his free foot. When that fails, he hooks an foot around my ankle and yanks me down.

Before I could stand up, he kicks me in the stomach. I pull on his leg, scratching his leg purposely. Once he's down, I kick him hard in the stomach and nose. He shields his face as I give him one more kick to the balls.

Al loses to Christina while the fight between Edward and Peter lasts for ten minutes. Both are matched but Edward is smarter and faster. It's no surprise that Edward won.

Now it's the fight between Tris and Molly.

"Was that a birthmark I saw on your left butt cheek?" she says to her smirking. "God, you're pale, Stiff."

Molly just fueled Tris even more by saying that. Molly puts her weight into a punch, only for Tris to duck and drive her fist right above Molly's bellybutton.

Tris moves out of the way when Molly lunges at her and blocks a punch with her forearm. Molly tries a sloppy kick which Tris dodges and Tris sends an elbow up her face.

Molly sends a punch to her ribs, only for Tris to stumble to the side before coming back. They both put their hands up their faces and stare at each other before Tris sends her fist below her bellybutton and sweep-kicks her legs under her and proceeds to kick Molly who is curled up on the platform.

Tris is still kicking Molly when Four goes and pulls her off Molly.

* * *

Since stage one has ended, I decide to go and get another tattoo. This time an owl on my back. After getting the tattoo, I decide on going to the training room. Just because stage one is over, that doesn't mean that I shouldn't physically adapt to Dauntless.

At first I'm the only one here. I approach one of the punching bags and begin hitting it. I punch the bag hard enough that it starts swaying and my fists turn red and bloody.

I'm too immersed in what I'm doing that I don't know that the door opened. However, after ten minutes I sensed that someone was in the room with me and turned to see my brother.

"Oh, I shouldn't be here," I say.

"I came here to apologize," he replies. "I lost control of my temper and reacted the way I did. Being challenged the third time yesterday was the last straw for me. I should have just sent you on your way to the dormitory. You're not just an initiate. You're my sister as well."

"I forgive you," I say.

"Shouldn't you be yelling in my face and try to kick the crap out of me?" he asks incredulously. "That's what the Amity do."

"No, I don't want to do in return what you did to me," I say. "I don't believe in karma too much."

"I do," he replies. "When someone messes with another, they shouldn't be surprised that their asses would get handed to them in return."

Molly sure experienced karma today, but she deserved it.

"I'll only fight back physically if the individual was intentionally using malice," I clarify. "We lose our tempers and commit actions that we don't mean. You don't necessarily deserve it."

"I like your point," he says. "Now let's go get some dinner."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Contains spoilers from **_**Four: A Divergent Collection **_

* * *

Today is Visiting Day.

When everyone gets dressed, you see it. Tris doesn't smile. Neither does Christina. In fact everyone looks pretty much crestfallen. They most likely think that they wouldn't find a face that belongs to theirs at the Pit. Two years ago, I and my family visited Eric, so I don't worry that they wouldn't show up.

I've finished restraining my blond streaked hair tightly in a ponytail when my brother walks in.

"Attention!" he announces. "I want to give you some advice about today. If by some miracle your families do come to visit you…" He scans our faces and smirks. "…which I doubt, it is best not to seem too attached. That will make it easier for you, and easier for them. We also take the phrase 'faction before blood' very seriously here. Attachment to your family suggests you aren't entirely pleased with your faction, which would be _shameful_. Understand?"

I almost see the double standard behind that. If I don't show enthusiasm over my family being there, Eric would ask me why.

I file out of the dormitory after Christina and Will. Christina whispers something to Will and he laughs in response. Al is nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the dormitory earlier either. He's probably hiding in the training room.

Upon entering the Pit, I see clusters of families, most of them Dauntless families with Dauntless initiates. I scan the crowd for my family when I find them: Mother, her blond hair partially restrained and wearing dark blue, talking to Will's sister. Beside her are Marietta and Martin, looking slightly bored.

I approach them.

"Oh, there you are," says mother genially as she sees me. I hug her before hugging the twins one by one.

"You streaked your hair," Marietta points out, frowning.

"Well, I'm Dauntless now," I say. "How is everything?"

"Nothing much has changed," answers mother. "However, I might be teaching Middle Levels next year."

"Why is that?" I ask.

"Since I have expertise with preteens," says mother. "You understand an age group when you have children at that age."

Mother has taught Literacy at Lower Levels since I was a small child. I can't imagine her teaching those barely passing puberty.

"I assume initiation is rather strenuous," says mother, looking at my nose. "Did you get that during training?"

"Yes, and we don't use padding," I answer. I look over to see Tris and her mother, in Abnegation grey, talking to Four by the railing that overlooks the chasm. Marietta begins filling me in on something that happened a few days ago at school.

"I told Connor Lovelace that he was doing the report wrong, that it was grossly oversimplified. He argued that it was correct. I told him, 'Well, you have to explain the genetic properties of personality traits thoroughly'."

I see Tris talking to a couple of Candor that look like Al's parents. She shakes her head and points at the glass ceiling and after they move away, I gesture for Tris to meet my mother and my siblings.

Tris looks unsure and quickly turns to her mother. Mrs. Prior nods before they approach us. I could see why she's unsure: there's tension between the Abnegation and the Erudite, not to mention that she doesn't like my brother and it's probably nerve wracking for Tris to see his family.

"Let's see what Malcolm is up to," I hear Martin say, and he and Marietta go over to where Edward is with his family.

"Hello, Mrs. Prior," says mother, extending her hand.

"As to you, Mrs. Matheson," answers Mrs. Prior. I'm not surprised that she knows my mother's surname, since mother taught Lower Levels Literacy and attended parent/teacher meetings.

"Nice to see you again, Beatrice," says mother extending her hand.

Tris hesitates before shaking her hand, "It's Tris."

"I see why you're hesitant," says mother. "The Abnegation and the Erudite are at odds with each other. Considering that an initiate is from Abnegation, you would think Jeanine would not have that ban enforced. Your brother is going to think your parents abandoned him."

"That's what I fear," says Mrs. Prior.

"I worry about the young Erudite," mother replies. "One method of persuasion is when something is backed up by a source that sounds credible. Most of the reports, in my opinion, deserve to be picked apart and analyzed thoroughly."

"Most reports. You believe in the report that attacked Marcus Eaton's character, don't you?" says Tris accusingly.

"Do you know him personally, Tris?" mother questions, raising an eyebrow.

"I saw him a few times but I don't know him personally," answers Tris.

"I majored in Psychology after initiation and I'm a mother," answers mom. "Looking back, I've noticed things I didn't before. Tobias was more withdrawn then most of the Abnegation and that was a sign that something was wrong at home. Also, I doubt that my son would lie about him thrashing at night and seeing those scars on his body."

"And you believed him?" Tris demands. "Since your son was Erudite, Eric could have made that all up just to ruin the reputation of the Abnegation."

"Beatrice!" her mother warns.

Mother doesn't waver. She looks at Tris placidly.

"I am aware of the reputation my son has here," says mother. "Dauntless hardens the best of people. When you're in a new environment, you have to adapt to survive. Sometimes that means behaving in a way you wouldn't usually before."

"Tris!" I hear Christina yell.

Tris and her mother approach Christina and her family.

"Sorry about that, mother," I apologize. "Eric isn't a favorite among the other initiates."

"It's not your fault," mother assures. "How is Eric?"

"He's doing well," I answer.

"When you see him, give this to him," she says, taking a white envelope from her black shoulder bag and gives it to me. "It's urgent that he read it."

"What happened?" I ask.

"You see, Margaret, during these times one must be careful," says mother.

I want to ask her why until I hear Cara say, "I can't believe that you associate with one of them, Will."

We turn to see Tris and her mother standing with Cara and Will. Cara glares at Mrs. Prior.

"Oh, dear," mother sighs.

"Cara," says Will, frowning, "there's no need to be rude."

"Oh, certainly not. Do you know who she is?" she points at Mrs. Prior. "She's a councilman's _wife_ is what she is. She runs the 'volunteer agency' that supposedly helps the factionless. You think I don't know that you're just hoarding goods to distribute to your own faction while _we _don't get fresh food for a month, huh? Food for the factionless, my eye."

Cara probably doesn't know that the factions take turns in food distribution. Since Amity grows the crops, it's natural that they get first choice. Besides I remember eating fresh food on the table back at Erudite but that's because of my father's status as a faction leader and the food distribution isn't fair.

"I'm sorry," says Mrs. Prior gently. "I believe you are mistaken."

"Mistaken. Ha," Cara snaps. "I'm sure you're exactly what you seem. A faction of happy-go-lucky do-gooders without a selfish bone in their body. Right."

Mother quickly goes over there and places an hand on Cara's shoulder. "Cara, this is not your place to be antagonistic to a member of another faction in a different faction compound."

"You're defending them?" asks Cara.

"What I'm saying is that you should be civil. You need to know that reports about a few people do not reflect on the entire population of that particular faction. I hate to say this but say something antagonistic again or I'll ask to bring my son out here to usher you out. I know you, Cara, and I know you are above making a scene of yourself."

Mrs. Prior says something to my mother before she takes Tris and drags her away. Mother comes back to me, looking harassed.

"I'm afraid that Jeanine is manipulating even the smart ones," says mother. "Once Erudite initiation is over, I'm going to have to take Caleb Prior under my wing. I heard he's smart but being from Abnegation, he seems too trusting."

"Are you afraid that Jeanine might sway him to not like his former faction?" I ask.

"That's what I fear," says mother. "Problem is that once Jeanine plants a thought in your head, it remains there."

A few minutes later, Tris's mother returns to the Pit.

"I do apologize for what just happened with Cara," mom apologized. "Sometimes the young Erudite think they know Jeanine but, they don't realize that they can be easily manipulated."

"It's alright, Mrs. Matheson," says Mrs. Prior calmly.

"Since you and your husband are not allowed to visit your son, I hope you don't mind if I invite him over to my house for dinner," says mother.

"I don't mind," says Mrs. Prior. "I would be more worried if the Erudite didn't accept him."

* * *

Mom found Martin and Marietta with the Malcolm, Edward's brother, and some of the initiates and their young siblings at the net, testing it out.

"Time to go home," says mother.

"But we haven't seen Eric yet," says Marietta.

"He's a Dauntless leader. I'm sure he wants to see you, but he has important things to do," says mother.

I hug Marietta and Martin goodbye, knowing that I might not see them again.

"Oh, I have something for you," says mother. She takes a plastic container out of her shoulder bag. Lemon poppy seed scones. "You can share these with the other initiates."

"Thank you, mother," I say, hugging her.

"I love you, Margaret," she says before withdrawing herself. "Just stay safe, okay."

She smiles before walking away with the twins.

* * *

I place the container of scones in my trunk before going off to find Eric. After some asking around, I track him to his office, which is located at the third floor of the Pit. I knock before entering his office.

"Hello, Meg," he says pleasantly as I enter the office. "What brings you in here?"

I take out the envelope. "Mother told me to give this to you. Said it was urgent."

He takes the envelope, looks at it before setting aside. "How were the twins?"

"Marietta asked about you," I say. "She didn't want to leave until she saw you."

"I was tied up," says Eric, smiling. "I wish i could have seen them, but I was busy."

"In a way, maybe it was for the best, since the initiates would peg you an hypocrite," I reply.

"They would," he says. "Now I got some things to do. I'll talk to you later. Hopefully tomorrow morning.

I nod and after I shut the door, I hear the sound of an envelope opening.

* * *

After dinner, the transfer initiates meet in the dormitory. Edward and I stand in the front of the crowd to get a better look of the ranks. Currently the blackboard is on the floor, leaning against Four's legs.

"For those of you that just came in, I'm explaining how the ranks are determined," he says. "After the first round of fights, we ranked you according to your skill level. The number of points you earn depends on your skill level and the skill level of the person you beat. You earn more points for beating someone of a high skill level. I don't reward preying on the week. That is cowardice."

For a moment it looks like he is looking at Peter before looking away from him.

"If you have a high rank, you lose points for losing to a low ranked opponent."

Molly snorts.

"Stage two of training is weighted more heavily than stage one, because it is more closely tied to overcoming cowardice," he says. "That said, it is extremely difficult to rank high at the end of initiation if you rank low in stage one."

Yes, but what if the initiate is emotionally braver than physically.

"We will announce the cuts tomorrow," Four says. "The fact that you are transfers and the Dauntless-born initiates are not will not be taken into consideration. Four of you could be factionless or none of them. Or four of them could be factionless or none of you. Or any combination thereof. That said, here are your ranks."

He hangs the board and steps back so we can see the rankings:

_First: Edward _

_ Second: Peter _

_ Third: Meg_

_ Fourth: Will _

_ Fifth: Christina _

_ Sixth: Molly _

_ Seventh: Tris_

_ Eighth: Drew _

_ Ninth: Al_

_ Tenth: Myra _

I wasn't surprised at my ranking, though I must have gained points during my fight with Edward and lost some during my fight with Drew.

Tris is not last but she's one of the bottom four. However, she did beat Molly yesterday, so that means her odds of being cut are slim. If any of the Dauntless-born are not cut, the last four are factionless.

Everyone looks at the board, frowning. It's silent until it falls.

"What?" demands Molly. She points at Christina. "I beat her! I beat her in _minutes_, and she's ranked _above _me?"

I scoff. That was _one_ fight. And she's stupid enough to go by that?

"Yeah," says Christina, crossing her arms. She wears a smug smile. "And?"

"If you intend to secure yourself a high rank, I suggest you don't make a habit of losing to low-ranked opponents," says Four, his voice cutting through the mutters and grumbles of the other initiates. He pockets the chalk and walks out of the room.

"You," she says, focusing her narrowed eyes at Tris. "_You _are going to pay for this."

Molly stalks out of the dormitory. I was taught that if someone is mad at you and walks away, they're more dangerous than someone who punches you.

Peter goes over to his bed and unties his shoelaces.

Christina and Will slap hands and Will slaps Tris on the back.

"Look at you. Number seven," he tells her grinning.

"Still might not have been good enough," she says.

"It was just physical training," I assure her. "I'm sure you'll do better after stage two."

"Yeah, don't worry," says Will. "We should celebrate."

"Yeah, let's go, then," says Christina, grabbing Tris's arm with one hand and Al's arm with the other. "Come on, Al. We'll find out who gets cut tomorrow."

"I'm just going to go to bed," he mumbles, pulling his arm free.

The four of us leave the dormitory.

"How about I get a stud here," I say, pointing to my right eyebrow. "We're not fighting anymore, so this would be a perfect time for a piercing."

"And after you pierce your eyebrow, are you going to pierce your lips?" asks Will grinning.

"Shut up, Will," I say. "Metal doesn't belong on the mouth."

* * *

That night, my eyebrow stings from the three studs that were pierced in. For a while, I didn't understand why the Dauntless pierced themselves and went under the needle. I understand now. It's to show that we're brave enough to take the pain that comes with it.

Next thing I know is that I hear a bloodcurdling scream followed by a heavy thud. Another scream sends me out of my bed and I stand on the floor. A few beds down, I see a dark lump on the floor.

"Turn on the lights!" someone shouts.

I run over to where the light switch is. I turn on the lights, filling the room with light. I turn to see what happened and I stop.

Edward is lying on the floor, clutching his face. Surrounding his head is a halo of blood and I see something sticking from his eye.

A butter knife handle.

I find myself running from the dormitory down the corridors through the Pit and eventually run up the stairs to the Pire. I run up the stairs to the third floor, bumping a Dauntless on the way and I find myself in front of Eric's apartment.

I pound hard on the door with my fists.

"Shit," I hear him mutter.

I continue pounding on the door.

"I'm coming!" he yells.

"I was going to tell him," says a Dauntless man. The same one who I bumped into.

The door slams open. Eric is wearing black sweatpants. He looks pissed.

"What the hell do you want? It's after midnight!" he demands. At the sight of me, his face softens. "What happened, Meg?"

"It…It's Edward," I say, sobbing heavily. "S-s-someone stabbed him in the e-e-eye with a b-b-butter knife."

"One of the control room operators saw it just now," says the Dauntless man. "I'm supposed to go to you when something like this happens."

"Well, let me get on a shirt and some boots," says Eric. He quickly pulls on a black shirt and shoves his feet into his boots before the three of us go to the control room on the eighth floor.

"Who saw it happen, Larry?" Eric inquiries.

"Ezekiel Pedrad," answers Larry.

"Hopefully he still has the footage," says Eric.

Unfortunately they did. Zeke played the scene in infrared, and I saw that it was Peter and Drew that did this to Edward.

"Well, I'll take care of this," says Eric.

* * *

Eric calls the infirmary, asking information about Edward's injuries.

"Nurse Geraldine says she thinks that the knife probably gone into his brain," Eric says to me when he hangs up the phone. "I have to wake Max up and bring this to his attention immediately. You want to accompany me? I know that you probably don't want to sleep right now."

I follow Eric deep into the compound to where Max's apartment probably is. Just when we approach the metal door, I hear Four's voice coming from the other side of the door.

"Yes, it's his fault, of course it's his fault! If they weren't all fighting for one of ten slots, they wouldn't be so desperate they're ready to attack each other! He has them wound up so tight, of course they're bound to explode eventually!"

I bite my lip. So Four is going to blame this on my _brother _instead of the person who perpetrated the act?

"You don't think the initiate who did the attacking should be held responsible?" asks Max, echoing my thoughts. "You don't think he or she is the one to blame, instead of Eric?"

"Of course he – she – whoever – should be held responsible," answers Four. "But this never would have happened if Eric –"

"You can't say that with any certainty."

"I can say it with the certainty of a reasonable person."

"I'm not reasonable?" I hear Max demand in a low dangerous voice. Somehow Four's word filter isn't that proficient.

"That's not what I meant," says Four calmly.

"You should be careful to communicate exactly what you mean," says Max. "Or someone will start to think you're insulting your superiors. Or questioning the value of your faction.

"You had your shot to become a Dauntless leader. Maybe you could have avoided this incident had you not backed out like a coward. But you did. So now you have to deal with the consequences."

Max pauses before he speaks again.

"Eric is as involved in initiation as he is because you refused to follow orders last year and I wanted to give you another chance to make it right, with closer monitoring. You're failing to do so. You've gone too far. Get out of my apartment and deal with your initiates. Don't let me see you step out of line again."

"Yes, sir," we hear Four say quietly before the door opens. Eric and Four get into an staring contest for a few seconds before Four strides away, his hands balled into fists.

"I apologize if I decided to come in at the wrong time," Eric says to Max.

"You're fine," says Max. "You can come on in."

I enter the apartment after Eric and step into the messiest living space I've ever seen: used cups and plates strewn across the coffee table, all the couch cushions in disarray, the floor grey with dust. It's in stark contrast to the organization of Eric's apartment.

"Now, who was it that got attacked?" asks Max.

"According to the surveillance footage, Peter Hayes and Drew Hyatt attacked Edward Viridian, lodging a butter knife into his eye."

"Who saw it from the control room?" inquiries Max.

"Zeke," answers Eric. "I contacted the infirmary. The nurse fears the blade went into his brain, since she saw some brain tissue on the blade along with eye tissue."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm hesitant to cut him from initiation. I really don't want to cut the transfer that ranked first," says Eric. "I doubt he'll be able to continue initiation half blind, but you never know. I'll see him in the infirmary tomorrow morning. I'll give him the option to stay or leave on his own accord."

"What about the assailants?" asks Max.

"I'll talk to them in the morning after seeing Edward," says Eric. He puts a hand on my shoulder. "Meg here alerted me to the incident right after it happened."

"That was smart of you to tell him right after it happened," Max says to me. "If you see anything else happen, don't be afraid to tell your brother or the other leaders. Our job is to protect the initiates."

Thing is, I doubt that the other initiates would think of telling Eric. Maybe since he's my brother I'm not afraid to tell him.

* * *

Eric and I walk across the barren Pit.

"Do you feel like returning to the dormitory tonight or do you want to sleep in my apartment?" he asks.

"Can I sleep in your apartment just for tonight? If I go back there tonight, I wouldn't be able to sleep."


End file.
